Perspective
by EllyMae
Summary: Darcy hides from his identity in Hertfordshire in a bid to reconcile himself to his duty and find peace before accepting his inevitable fate. What he discovers instead, is family, love, and acceptance. But what sacrifices will this new perspective cost?
1. Chapter 1

_**This idea came to me a wee while ago, and would not leave me alone. So I spent some fevered hours draughting an outline that seemed to work. I hope you think so too.**_

_**Please bear with me, it's my first period fic, and my first fic ever on FF. I am finding the speech patterns somewhat more a challenge than I like to admitt! Also finding the time is challenging with 4 small childeren bustling about!**_

_**Let me know what you think :)**_

**This Fic asks what would have happened had D & E met under far more more humble circumstances, same characters, small differences. Deviates markedly from the origional storyline, but most existing events still happen around our characters.**

**Darcy hides from his identity in Hertfordshire in a bid to reconcile himself to his duty and find peace before accepting his inevitable fate. What he discovers instead, is family, love, and acceptance. A story of the sacrifes made in growing up, and learning what is truly important. But will his new discovories help him become the man his family expect him to be? Or will he refuse to return? Either way- he must make a heartbreaking sacrifice.**

**CHAPTER 1**

Lady Catherine's voice echoed through the great halls of Pemberly, uninhibited by the heavy wooden doors that strived to muffle the commotion within.

"Surely you see what an agreeable match it is, Fitzwilliam. It will be of great benefit to the entire family! And just think of Georgiana! Her prospects will be even greater! Why, to be sure you will be the most influential couple in all of England!"

"Georgiana will have her choice of fine gentlemen as it is, Aunt, and although I do think of the pleasure my marrying Anne would bring to the family, surely I must consider my own happiness in this also must I not?" Fitzwilliam Darcy sat in his chair, his knuckles white from the force of his grip on the rich Rosewood arms, his voice uncharacteristically high pitched as he once again pleaded his case. This time, however, he faced down not only the scarlet faced Lady De Bourgh, but all the great personages of his family.

Indeed, The debacle of his marriage to Anne, which he had been successfully avoiding for many years now, had finally reached it's inevitable crescendo, when his Father George Darcy, had suffered a small turn the day before. As all the family had been present, it had allowed the perfect opportunity for Lady Catherine to demand a definite arrangement. With Darcy's Father looking old and frail, it reminded each family member that it would not be long before Darcy himself took his place as Master of Pemberly. Apparently- that meant his current status as unattached was simply unacceptable!

"Do you have some reason, at least, for your objection Darcy? Is there something you find particularly wanting in Anne?" The gentle voice of his Aunt Matlock broke through Darcy's reverie.

"No, of course not, You know I am fond of her..."

"There, you see! Therefore there can be no impediment! Be sensible Boy! It is time you desisted in your childish manner and accepted your responsibilities! You are the heir of Pemberly. It is high time you started behaving like it!" Lady Catherine's arch voice echoed about the room.

"I am fond of Anne, we have grown up together, but I do not love her! I do not see my ever loving her! And the same goes for her! You cannot force us to marry!"

"Love! Is this your complaint? What on earth does love have to do with it? Your father has spoilt you since your mothers death- mark my words! But you must do your duty! Are you a peasant that you might marry the first pretty thing to catch your eye? Have you taken leave of your senses boy? It is not for one of our class to speak of such foolish things! Duty, and family, that is where you will find happiness! It is the way it has been for generations! You will desist in this foolishness!"

At this point, Darcy's Uncle, Lord Matlock Stood up to his full height, and looked firmly down at his nephew.

"Fitzwilliam, you know both your Aunt Matlock and myself have the deepest affection for you. As such, we desire nothing more than your own happiness,..."

"Thank you, Uncle- I knew you would understand..." Darcy's voice started in relief, but trailed off as his Uncle levelled a look at him to silence.

"As a young man of privilege, you have always enjoyed the finest things in life, always known a way of life that few could rival. And for the better part, you have grown into a fine young gentleman for it. You are an asset to whom-so-ever you choose to befriend, you are level-headed, and not given to excesses as some of the young men are. You are a responsible young man, always doing your duty, even where it causes you discomfort. Do not think we miss how uncomfortable you are in mixed company, Son, yet you perform admirably well considering. Perhaps that is why I am so confounded by your refusal to do your duty in this matter also. Perhaps, you do not understand just what is at stake.

The great families of Darcy and Matlock, as you well know, are an alliance that goes back many centuries. We hold many of the greatest estates in the country, and as such, our power in the first circles is unrivalled. As a unit, we are protected from the many social pitfalls and snares that beset other families, because nobody would dare touch us. We can protect our loved ones, such as Georgiana, who is so innocent she would normally be easy prey for scandal mongers. As a whole, we are the single most influential family in England. That is not a position that comes lightly!

Both Rosings and Pemberly, are an integral part of that delicate position we hold. If we loose both, or even one of those estates, we could easily loose our position. I do not think you are so naive as to not recognize the dangers that would then face such ones as precious Georgiana! There are many among the ton, who would delight in the fall of our family. It could easily be our ruin!

Normally, this would not be a concern, as in the past there have always been plenty of offspring between the two families that the tying together has occurred almost naturally. However, in this circumstance, you are the only male heir to Pemberly, and Rosings has no male heir whatsoever. A match between Anne and yourself would solidify our families position. Up until now, we have all indulged you in allowing you time. But your fathers degrading health has served as an overdue reminder. The estates must have an heir. It is time for you to accept your duty, and halt your procrastination."

Darcy sat a moment in stunned silence. He had counted on his Uncle for an ally, but now he saw they were unified against him. At last, Darcy offered up the only remaining argument, despite the bad taste it left on his tongue.

"Forgive me for what I say, Uncle, but what you say is true. Pemberly must have an heir. As much as I hate to speak of it, however, it must be said. Anne is of a delicate constitution as it is, I do not think she is built for child-bearing." Darcy's words were spoken low, not wanting to cause Lady Catherine pain of the acutest kind. Her softly spoken response therefore came as a surprise. With firm conviction, tinged with only a hint of sorrow she replied,

"Anne has the same constitution as your own mother, my Sister. And she bore her husband two beautiful children did she not?"

Darcy's eye's burned with passion and grief as he recalled the day of his mothers passing. "Indeed, Aunt. But at what cost? Childbearing cost her her life, she was so weakened after my own birth, and even though she did not bear another child for many years, she still did not retain enough strength to survive the birth of her second! Is that what you would wish for Anne?"

Sadness lurked in Lady Catherine's eyes, as she acknowledged the truth in what Darcy said. But raising her chin high, she quietly replied,

"My Sister did her duty, Darcy- as will Anne."

"Her duty?... Her duty!... I... She... Her DUTY killed her!" Darcy spluttered in shocked rage.

"Your Mother chose to give her life in giving you and your Sister yours. Do not ever think she would have regretted one moment of it."

The weary voice of George Darcy spoke from a chair nearby. Despite the pallor afforded his appearance due to his sudden turn that day, his voice was strong, his manor proud, commanding the attention of the entire room as only he could.

"I will not allow you to depreciate what she gave you by making it sound like a price she had to pay. Your Mother was allowed fewer years than most young women, but she would not have changed the way of things for a paltry few years of existence. Your Aunt is right, Anne did her duty to her family despite the cost, and she was happy in the doing.

Perhaps your Aunt is right. Perhaps I have spoilt you since Anne's death. But I have always thought that there is little point to being born to a life of privilege if one cannot enjoy it. For the most part, as your Uncle has said before me, you have become an admirable young man. A young man I am proud to call son. But it is time you let go of your boyish ways, Fitzwilliam. You are born to privilege, and with privilege comes responsibility. You will marry Anne, or the entire estate will be entailed to Georgiana upon her marriage to Richard."

"Richard? You would make her marry Richard!"

"Richard is a good man, it would be an acceptable alternative."

Darcy stood, and began to pace the room. His anger growing by the minute. He had always desired to marry for love, as he had seen so many of his contempories do. Granted, most of those were not of the peerage, and that did alter things a little, but he still found the prospect of a loveless marriage to his sickly cousin repulsive. Darcy had told the truth, he was fond of Anne, but only ever as a friend. They had played together as children, but after Anne caught fever at 13, she had never fully recuperated. To know that the certain cost of implanting his heir within her would be her death, disgusted him. To be sure it would solidify the family wealth, but how could they see it as anything but blood money- knowing as they did the cost!

Hearing his Father side with Lady Catherine came as little surprise. Although Fitzwilliam had no doubt that his Father loved his family very much, he had always been cold and aloof. Hiding behind such emotionless words as duty and honour.

But to hear him threaten to give away little Georgiana's hand so lightly, whilst she was yet little more than a child, disturbed him none-the-less. Georgiana was as yet only 13. A shy and timid creature, she was delicate in every way. Georgiana had never known her Mother, Anne Darcy having passed away a mere two weeks after Georgiana's birth, but she was the perfect reflection of her Mother. Delicate and innocent, and so easily manipulated. In his grief for his beloved Mother, Fitzwilliam had become fiercely protective of his Sister, doting on her even as his Father distanced himself. George Darcy had been disappointed to not have a second son, and his daughters ever growing resemblance to his late wife had rendered him almost incapable of being in her presence. Fitzwilliam therefore, had been almost more a Father figure to the girl than a brother. It was then little wonder, that this was his price.

Accept a loveless marriage of his families choosing, or allow a loveless marriage to be foisted upon his Sister. Richard, although admittedly a very good man in all the ways that count, was a good 20 years Georgiana's senior, and as a soldier, he was worldly-wise and rather given to his pleasures. A marriage between the two of them would likely result in even more unhappiness than that between himself and Anne. There was, really therefore, no choice at all. But still Darcy railed against his fate.

"How long do I have to decide?" He spat out, turning a cold visage to his Father.

"Oh, contrary to what your Aunt seems to think, I have a few good years left in me yet, so I can afford to be lenient. Not too lenient mind you, considering Anne's health. So let's say one year. This time next year, an engagement will be announced. Yours,... or Georgiana's."

Fitzwilliam Darcy merely stared in open fury at his Father, before turning on his heel and stalking out of the room.

Fitzwilliam took the stairs to his quarters two at a time in his anger, servants and maids scurrying out of his way hither and thither, unsure what to make of the young master in such a mood.

"Harvey! Harvey man. Good, you are still here." He called slamming open the door to his rooms. "I need you to pack my things immediately." Darcy closed the door behind him, tearing as he did so his silk cravat from his collar, sitting in his arm chair and pinching his nose with his forefingers, trying as best he could to still the trembling that emanated from within.

"Master, are you quite well Sir?" Asked Harvey, coming to kneel beside the young man who to him had become so much more than merely a master.

Indeed, Harvey had been with young Fitzwilliam Darcy from his earliest years. It was he that had been the only one to see the true extent of the boy's grief over his Mother, who had watched the carefree yet always overly mature young boy turn overnight into a sombre and troubled young man. It was Harvey alone who was trusted to see beneath the cold and sombre mask that Master Fitzwilliam wore for the rest of the world, to the fragile and insecure boy within.

The night his mother died, Darcy had been a mere 10 years old, though tall for his age, and reserved in his manner, he appeared much older. But he was yet only 10 years of age, and as his Father, stricken with his own grief, ensconced himself alone in his study, the boy had reached out blindly for the comfort of a parent that simply hadn't been there.

On that cold winters night, Harvey had found his young Master sobbing in his mere shirt sleeves grasping the snow laden trunk of the old willow his Mother had loved by the frozen lake, his teeth chattering as he begged to know what he done that would make her leave, swearing over and over again words of growing up, of being strong, and making her proud, begging one long since beyond hearing, to stay.

It had been Harvey, that had carried the incoherent youth back into the house, and nursed him through the fever. Harvey that had held his hand as he called in his delirium for the Father that would not come. And Harvey, that had witnessed the death of an innocent child, as a young man took his place that from that day forward would strive to do almost anything to please a Father who scarcely acknowledged his children. It was Harvey that fished out of the rubbish a teddy bear, and carefully kept it, in hopes that someday, someone would see the child within his Master, who screamed out for affection and acceptance, and perhaps that symbol of youth and innocence could take it's place once more, perhaps to be lovingly passed from his masters hand to that of another small child that might know the happiness it's own Father had been denied.

It was Harvey, who had slowly begun to loose hope as he saw the last remaining embers of that boy drowning under the weight of duty and propriety, as he desperately tried to sort out the man he was inside and the man he tried to be to please the family.

Darcy lifted his eye's, the anger now replaced with a vulnerability that tore Harvey apart, and quietly inquired desperately of his valet and friend,

"Am I truly such a failure Harvey? Have I really not done enough? I try so hard to do all that they ask, be all they desire. Is it truly such a terrible thing to ask to be true to one's own heart?"

"Oh Master, you have done more than enough. No-one could ask for a more dutiful son."

"Than why am I yet not enough?" Darcy's eye's bore into the older mans, pleading for an answer he could not give.

"You have always been enough for me Master." The old man choked out, grasping his Master's head as it came to lay on his shoulder as it had when he had been but a boy.

"I need my things packed, Harvey. Nothing much, just my riding habit and the like."

"Are we going somewhere Master?" Harvey asked, not liking the dead look that had come to rest in his Masters eye's.

"Just me, old friend. I have been allowed one year before I must sacrifice my soul, if indeed I have one, for Pemberly. I intend to use it to discover if indeed I have one to sacrifice at all."

"Master, you'll not go doing anything rash now, will you?"

Darcy smiled with fondness at the old man, "No, no of course not. But I can take a leave of being a Darcy. For just one year, I'd like to see the world through another's eye's."

"Might I ask how so Sir?"

"Oh, I don't know,... I will ride until I find a place where the names of Darcy, De Bourgh and Matlock mean nothing, I suppose."

"And if you find such a place, Sir, just what do you seek."

"I don't know, Harvey. But I have to go, I cannot breathe here." The words escaped him as little more than a puff of air, yet Harvey felt them as a knife in his heart.

"Than I hope you find what you seek, Sir."

Darcy offered a weak smile, before the emotionless mask fell over his features once more.

Lord Matlock met his nephew at the foot of the stairs.

"Darcy man! What is the meaning of this!"

"I have one year, do I not?"

"Well,... yes,... but..."

"Where are you going?" Mr Darcy's hard voice echoed across the foyer from the doorway he stood in.

"I don't know exactly. Somewhere nobody has heard the name Darcy for sure."

"As if such a place exists!" Scoffed his uncle. "Really, Darcy. Be sensible boy! These dramatics do not suit you!"

"And you would know, wouldn't you, Uncle!" Darcy sneered at Lord Matlock, "After all, you are the authority on who I am and am not, are you not? Perhaps I ought apply to you, in future, for what colour coat I ought wear!"

"Let him go." His fathers voice said dispassionately from his doorway. "But Fitzwilliam, wherever you go, remember you cannot outrun your fate. Perhaps in your travels, you might find the man your mother sought to make you." The door closed quietly behind his Fathers back, even as his words reverberated around the room, taking all the fire from Darcy's eye's and leaving only pain.

"When can we expect your return?"

Lord Matlocks question hung unanswered as Darcy headed for the carriage, turning his back one last time on the house that seemed to hold only shadows for him.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Thank you so much for all the response to this story! I cannot promise any pattern the the updates, (I have 4 small childeren and home-school the eldest, so rather busy!) but hope to get this story in motion while its still hot in my head. This Chapter had origionally been much longer, but have cut it down as I feel it was a good place to leave it. **_

_**As for all those asking if this is a Darcy/Lizzy fic- I'll not spoil it by giving away the ending, but I do ask how any P&P fic could ever be otherwise, to some extent or other, considering the sheer magnatism between the two characters. I like to think I take my own slant on the tale- but I do not wish to completely re-write it! Our characters are still ultimatly the same people, If at times there are changes to age and or history, therefore thier interactions cannot be overly changed. That said, events in my story happen in a slightly altered order- as obviously relevent characters are otherwise occupied!**_

**Chapter 2**

Darcy had little idea upon leaving Pemberly where he was headed, indeed, he had little idea at all of exactly what his intentions were. He only knew that he had to get away from it all, and clear his head. Find some peace amongst the raging maelstrom of thoughts rampaging through his pounding head.

His entire life, he had tried with all his power to please the people in that room. Never once had he defied them, and though the knowledge made his heart sick, he knew he would not defy them on this matter either. If he was honest with himself, the threat to Georgiana was actually unnecessary. No matter the cost to himself, sooner or later he would have capitulated to their demands. He would do his duty.

Laying his head back against the carriage then, he found himself wondering what he was doing here. Would time and space grant him the courage to defy them? No, it would not. Would it help him get his head around the idea so that it was less repulsive to him? No, that it certainly would never be!

Yet the need to escape drove him on and on, past town after town, changing carriages and even going by horse, till at last he knew he could no longer be tracked. Till at last, he was just another un-named gentleman on the road to somewhere.

Finally, the carriage ground to a halt, and there was a short tap on the box to signal the next stop. Gathering the bag with his few possessions, he opened the door, shielding his eye's from the sudden light, and stepped down. Turning to the driver once more, he tipped his hat in thanks, asking as he did so- to the drivers amusement,

"Sorry, but where are we?"

"Meryton, Sir, Hertfordshire."

"Of course. Thank you."

With that the carriage carried on, leaving him behind. Darcy looked down at himself, and allowed a small smile. He had managed to procure a change in attire at the inn last evening, and he had to admit it had done the job. Gone was the finely tailored white linen breeches and silk shirt sleeves, replaced instead with coarser linens and cotton. He still cut a fine figure of course, but now that of a country gentleman, instead of the heir to Pemberly.

Indeed, he felt strangely lost as he blended in amongst the populace, attracting none of the usual attention that his name and attire afforded. As such, little was thought of the young gentleman who made some small purchases about town, before heading out to a small park on the perimeter of Meryton.

Sitting down on the grass in the shade of a large oak tree, Darcy took a moment to simply breath. He closed his eye's and let the warm summer breeze wash over him, taking in the sounds of a gently rambling brook, several ducks and their young, and a number of small birds that flitted about him. The sounds of a quiet country life. Opening his eye's once more, he opened the small bag that contained his lunch, a pastry of some kind, filled to brimming with pork mince and vegetables. As he bit into it, he suddenly realised that this was the first time since he had left Pemberly, that he had been enough at peace to indulge an appetite. Perhaps, he mused, Meryton was where his road had been leading him all along.

Slowly, he became aware of another sound. That of laughter. It was a full bodied laughter, yet not that of a man. It was the sort of laughter that would be met with grave censure in London circles, yet somehow, here in a quiet country town, it seemed to belong. Darcy looked out to the fields beyond the edge of the park, and found himself smiling as he watched the spectacle unfolding before him. Four women, gentlewomen judging from their attire, were making their way slowly through the field. Though whether they actually made any progress or not could be debated, as the youngest two kept stealing each others bonnets and running off with them.

He smiled as he watched the visions in pale coloured muslin flit to and fro, their hair coming free in wisps to float about their faces, giggling and screaming as each tried to gain the upper hand. The mother, a rotund and merry looking woman, smiled on indulgently, whilst the elder seemed quite uninspired by the entire charade, barely lifting her nose from her book. Finally, the two girls energy apparently spent, they collapsed among the tall grass, until a shrill cry erupted from one "Lydia! You know I hate to be tickled! No! No, stop it! Mama!"

The mother now pulled a small packet from her bag, smiling to herself in a manner that closely resembled the proverbial cat that had gotten the cream, before quietly wondering to herself in a tone clearly meant to be overheard, "Oh my! What have we here? New ribbons? I wonder who those could possibly be for?"

At that, as one, both girls rushed to their mothers side, gushing over the shade of this pink or the lightness of that blue. This did not last long however, as soon, one took off with a long silk ribbon trailing behind her, as her sister gave pursuit. "Kitty! Kitty! I want that one, it will suit my blue gown! Kitty come back!"

Darcy found himself imagining Georgiana in such a pursuit, her long golden tresses flowing out behind her as she giggled and ran through the gardens of Pemberly, their Mother smiling down from an upper casement... But alas, such conduct would never be permitted! It would not be seemly for Georgiana either to 'giggle' or to run! Darcy imagined Pemberly with a family such as the one before him residing there, and wondered at how different it could be, if only the company were warmer!

His mind was drawn back to the present however, as the more dainty of the two- Lydia, if he recalled correctly- caught up with her sister Kitty, and in the resulting tussle, managed to displace both their balance, resulting in a most unseemly tumble down a small incline towards the small brook.

"Oh Lydia! Now see what you have done! Mama come quick and see! Mama!" And so it continued on.

Darcy was surprised to hear a deep rumble emitting from his lips, his own laughter a sound that he had almost forgotten. Not half so surprised however, as he was by the light feminine voice that spoke from a mere few feet to his left!

"Are they not indeed the single most ridiculous thing you have ever set your eye's upon Sir?"

So taken by surprise was he in fact, that he scrambled immediately to his feet, quite forgetting the lunch that had previously been sitting in his lap, and which now fell most unceremoniously down his trouser leg to the floor.

"I'm so sorry! I did not mean to startle you Sir!" Said the young lady, earnestly endeavouring to hide a laugh behind her hand,.. and failing abysmally!

"No, no indeed, madam, I.. I am just not accustomed to people being able to take me by surprise. That is all." He stumbled ineloquently, trying to think of the appropriate thing to say.

After several moments of awkward silence, The young lady continued,

"Forgive me Sir, but are you visiting? It is only you do not seem familiar, and I had prided myself in knowing most everyone in the county."

"Ah, yes, I suppose I am, of a sort."

"Of a sort?" The lady's brow arched at this, her lip quirking as she took in his appearance, seeming to find great amusement in something about him she seemed ill inclined to share. "Perhaps you are staying with someone I know?"

Darcy found himself standing straighter under her scrutiny, not sure what to make of her, yet unable to shake the feeling that beneath the teasing, he was being measured, and it made him uneasy. He had not yet constructed an alias, and found himself quite at a loss for how to introduce himself.

"No, I'm afraid I am simply visiting the district, I have no family here."

Darcy was finally granted his own chance to observe her at this, as her eye's flitted back out to the women in the field. She was a petite creature, with alabaster skin, and rich mahogany hair. Her face, whilst pretty enough, was much alike the rest of her, somewhat unremarkable. It was only when her eye's met his, deep chocolate pools, hooded with long dark lashes, that her features were transformed into something else entirely. Something there in their depths told of intelligence, wit, and humour. Also a perceptiveness that made him suddenly feel as though she could see clear through to his soul.

"I see. Then are you staying at the Inn?" She inquired.

Darcy paused at this, was he? "Actually I had just arrived and have as yet no definite arrangements."

At this her eye's snapped back to his. "You mean you have no prior arrangements! What kind of Gentleman travels in such a disorganized manner? I'm sorry, you must forgive my impertinence, it is only that you happen to have chosen a most inopportune time to require lodgings. The eldest Lucas boy is to be wed tomorrow, I fear the Inn will have no room to spare for you!"

Darcy had never considered this, and felt the air rush out of his lungs in a disappointed sigh.

"Oh, I see. You are right of course. I ought to have made prior arrangements I suppose, only the circumstances of my travel would not allow it to be so."

"I see,..." She would have continued, but for another bout of riotous behaviour from the two girls yonder, which made her both laugh and blush all at once. "Oh dear, I fear you must excuse my sister's, they really have no sense of decorum at times!"

"Not at all Miss," He replied, his voice rich with warmth as he looked upon the scene before them, "But I envy them. They are so innocent, so young and gay,... I was just now thinking how much they reminded me of beautiful dandelion seeds, carried on the whims of the wind. I would we were all so fortunate as to enjoy such freedom."

He became aware then of that piercing gaze once more focused on him, and cursed himself for saying so much. But as he met her searching gaze, this time, he felt that in whatever way he had been being measured up previously, he had not been found wanting.

"Thank you, Sir." She whispered, "Few people, upon first impression of my sisters can find anything commendable in them, yet you have so easily seen the truth of it."

"Forgive me Madam, allow me to introduce myself, William,... William,... Smith."

And there it went again, that eyebrow of hers that immediately said she knew there was more to that story than he was letting on, which of course there was.

"Elizabeth, Elizabeth Bennet. A pleasure to meet you Sir. You know I do love a good conundrum!"

"I do not understand you Miss?"

"You Sir, you are a conundrum." She replied as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, yet finding great amusement in his discomfort.

"How so, Madam, if I might be so bold as to ask?"

She turned to him full on now, and allowed herself open scrutiny.

"Your clothes are those of a simple country gentleman, yet other aspects of you would disagree. For instance, although your breeches are of coarse linen, your boots are of the highest quality. And though you present yourself with a common enough name, your manners give you away as anything but. Yet you show up in a small town with no company and no relations, and no set plans beyond your current meal."

Darcy shifted from one foot to the other, almost ready to go in pursuit of the next carriage out of town, but instead, he found his courage and looked her in the eye instead.

"And your conclusion, Madam?"

She eyed him for a moment as though trying to convince herself of something.

"My conclusion, Mr 'Smith', is that you need a place to stay and a warm meal in your stomach. If you would allow me to introduce you to my family, I think we can help with that."

And there it was- the blinding smile that upon reaching her eye's gave her the appearance of an angel! Darcy caught his breath in shock. She had made it clear she did not believe his story, yet she openly offered him into her home? He found himself unable to check his curiosity at this unexpected behaviour.

"You,... you know nothing about me! Yet you would invite me into your home?"

"Perhaps it may seem odd to you, to offer a man who will not offer his real name, and who has clearly fled from something into my home, and perhaps I should know better. But there is something about you, Mr...'Smith', that feels... honourable. Yes, that's it, and whatever your story, I think it is a somewhat complicated one, is it not?"

Darcy hung his head, and hoped he would not regret this. "Indeed Miss, I fear you have discovered me." He smiled at her ruefully, " I am indeed no simple country gentleman, but rather have sought to disguise myself for a time."

"Why? Why would you do such a ting?" She asked in a near whisper.

Darcy released a long sigh. "It is such a long story, and one I'd rather not tell, Miss Elizabeth. Suffice it to say that I have temporarily fled my home in search of mental repose. A repose that cannot be achieved among my usual sphere. I just want to keep a low profile whilst I find some much needed equanimity."

"Your secret is safe with me Sir," Elizabeth smiled, "Come, you must allow me to introduce to you my mother and sisters."


	3. Chapter 3

_**Hi there- SO SO sorry for the delay in posting this chapter! My computor is having a major meltdown, and so everything to do with this story was inaccessable! Add to that personal issues... and yeah! Very sorry! Thanks so much for the HUGE response to this story! I'm absolutely blown away by how many of you have reviewed/alerted/favorited! I really hope I can keep living up to it! **_

_**As for certain issues raised- I'm not sure of different spelling of Pemberly- thats just what the spell check corrected it to- so sorry! Also appologies on the plural of eyes being spelt eye's it's one of my common blunders that slips past spell check! And as per this chapter- I cannot seem to recall wether Kitty or Lydia is the youngest sibling- but for the purpose of this story, Lydia is the youngest. You will note a few changes to key characters in here, please bide with me!**_

_**Anyhow- more introductions ahead, before our pace picks up :)**_

The following events occurred in almost a haze for Darcy, as the young lady appeared to shrug off any concerns that should naturally arise from his less than forthcoming introduction, and lead him toward the group of ladies. As they neared the group, she turned her head to him and quietly whispered,

"I beg your forgiveness in advance, Sir. My sisters are, as you so astutely phrased it, so very young and gay."

Darcy turned an enquiring gaze to her, but his curiosity was not left long to wonder as to her meaning, as a shrill cry erupted from nearby.

"Mama! Mama! Come and see! It's Lizzy, and she has brought with her a gentleman! And oh my, but he is handsome!"

The cooing, Darcy noted with some embarrassment had emanated from the one named Lydia, who was now regarding him in a most disturbing manner from behind extraordinarily long dark lash's. She was, for all intents, a pretty young thing, but any true beauty she may possess, was rendered common by her openly flirtatious manner.

Miss Elizabeth quickly stepped in to censure her sister.

"Lydia! Really! Where are your manners!"

By now, their mother, Mrs Bennet had arrived on the scene also, and was making him decidedly uncomfortable with her appraising gaze, one he was most familiar with- that of a mother trying to measure up a potential suitor for her daughter.

"Well Lizzy, are you going to introduce us to your, admittedly very handsome, young gentleman?" Mrs Bennet smiled brightly in a manner that left no doubt in Darcy's mind as to where Miss Lydia had learnt her manner!

Miss Elizabeth sent a slightly embarrassed grin in his direction before introducing them.

"Mother, this is Mr Smith. Mr Smith, may I introduce you to my mother, Mrs Bennet, and my three younger sisters, Miss Mary Bennet,.." At this, the elder of the girls offered a small curtsy, barely disguising her discomfiture at the introduction,

"Miss Kathrine Bennet,..." The next eldest here offered a somewhat more enthusiastic curtsy, blushing as she gushed "Everyone just calls me Kitty." Whilst Miss Elizabeth frowned slightly,

"And of course you have already met my youngest sister, Miss Lydia Bennet." Lydia for her part, giggled excessively as she offered an exceedingly bouncy curtsy, evidently excited to make a new acquaintance, especially of the male gender!

"A pleasure to meet you." Darcy managed, beginning to feel a little uncomfortable with the attention he was attracting. Miss Elizabeth must have realized this, as she continued,

"I was just telling Mr Smith of the wedding tomorrow, Mama, as he has arrived at a most unfortunate time."

"Unfortunate? However so?" Mrs Bennet enquired, her attention effectively diverted.

"You see he was requiring lodgings, Mama, as he has arrived here at somewhat of a loose end."

"Oh! You won't find any of those, why not at this late hour! To be sure, every room in Meryton will be full with the guests for the wedding!" Mrs Bennet despaired, then finding her humour once more, she began to gush over the coming event,

"It is a terribly grand affair, to be sure! Guests coming from near and far! What with that London girl he has chosen, there are so many invited! A good match I suppose, though I had hoped he would choose one of my beautiful girls of course, still..."

Miss Elizabeth again redirected the conversation. "I thought Mr Smith might dine with us tonight, Mama, No doubt Papa would enjoy the male company."

"Oh yes! Indeed! Of course you must, Mr Smith! I will not stand to hear of anything else! We have lovely guest rooms, and of course you are most welcome! Why I am sure Mr Bennet would delight in your company! With five daughters a little male company does him good sometimes... Speaking of which, Lizzy, wherever is Jane? I thought you were to return together?"

"Indeed Mama, but she was invited to dine with Mrs Avery tonight, and I promised I would return to let you know of the change in plans."

"Oh,... oh, I see. Well then, I suppose we shall have to do without her then. I assume Mrs Avery will send the carriage to return her."

"Yes Mama, I do believe that was the plan."

At this, Mrs Bennet made a few small disgruntled noises before turning back in the direction they had been previously walking.

"Are you staying long in the area, Mr Smith?" Mrs Bennet enquired at last.

"I am not sure yet, Ma'am. I have no particularly definite plans as yet."

"Oh, oh I see. Pray, what area are you from, Sir?"

"Derbyshire, Ma'am." Darcy spoke before thinking, cursing himself for not simply evading the question. It suddenly struck him, and indeed he wondered why it had not done so previously, so obvious was it, that his natural propensity for honesty may hinder his quest for anonymity.

"And what, exactly, do you do there, Sir?" Mrs Bennet enquired, trying, though failing, to disguise her intent to make out his value.

Darcy smiled at this. Mrs Bennet had unwittingly given him his opportunity to tell the truth at the same time as making himself out to be of small fortune if indeed any.

"I help to manage a gentleman's estate, Ma'am."

Darcy smiled to himself as he noted the lady's face fall slightly, though he managed to miss the thoroughly amused glint in Miss Elizabeth's eye's.

"Oh,.. oh I see... well I do hope you enjoy your stay in Hertfordshire, Sir. There is such beauty in the countryside do you not think?"

"Indeed Ma'am. I do do believe the countryside is some of the finest I have seen."

They lapsed into silence for some time after this, simply enjoying the warm summer evening. But it was not in the nature of either of the younger sisters to be much at peace for any extended period of time, and so it was, that not long thereafter, the two girls were flittering about in pursuit of one another's ribbons once more.

It was then, little surprise that the group formed three sets, with the two girls well ahead, falling back from time to time to the next group- that of their mother and sister- to resolve larger issues. Whilst Mr Darcy and Miss Elizabeth fell behind slightly, simply enjoying the scenery.

As the two girls ran and giggled, Darcy mused on the strangeness of the perspective he was viewing them from. It did not miss him that were circumstances different to what they in fact were, he most likely would not view the scene he now beheld as he currently did- an enchanting vision of felicity.

No indeed, but if he had come upon this family as Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy, he would have proudly stood apart from them, undesirious of their apparent lack of propriety being in any way connected with his families good name. As it was however, Mr William Smith indulgently gazed with open admiration at the thoroughly enchanting scene of family life before him.

"You seem quite taken with my sisters lack of decorum Mr Smith." Commented Miss Elizabeth from his side, a hint of amusement, as ever, in her tone.

"Indeed Miss, I must confess I am not accustomed to such displays of playfulness." He replied with an indulgent smile.

"You have no younger siblings then, I assume Sir?"

"One, a sister, but our father is very strict, such abandon would not be tolerated."

"You sound almost wistful, Sir." She responded, her gaze piercing him once more, and he again had the unsettling sensation of being utterly transparent to her.

"In our family, propriety and decorum are of uppermost importance. I have often wondered what it would be like were we to allow ourselves a few liberties."

"Yes, but one must agree, that whilst youth can cover some abandon, too much can be be detrimental to both ones own future and that of ones family."

Her eye's lost their sparkle with this small speech, and focused with worry upon her sisters. Her manner changing suddenly from carefree innocence to the deep concern one was more wont to see in a parents eye's. Darcy recognized in her one who, like himself, carried more responsibility upon her shoulders than was common in one so young.

"But surely, Miss Elizabeth, it is the responsibility of society to recognize each individuals merit upon their own recommendation alone, is it not?" He said in a soft voice, watching her closely in an effort to understand her.

"Perhaps, Sir, but from what you have yourself said, you are in a position better than most to understand how unforgiving society can truly be."

The words, whilst innocent enough in their intent, stung him most sharply. Indeed, was he not himself just musing on how inappropriate he would normally consider their behaviour? Of how he would normally distance himself from their company for fear of tarnishing his own reputation? How much more so then, would he or another such as himself, despise the very idea of marrying into such a family.

Alas, what could be seen from one perspective as innocent abandon, could also be easily perceived as a complete lack of propriety, and thus hinder the prospects of all those associated with them.

He suddenly felt shame of a most acute kind as he realized that his true self would be inclined to spurn her company based on what could be labelled as nothing but prideful folly. A slightly uneasy silence descended upon them, as each contemplated their own thoughts.

At last, Miss Elizabeth broke the tension, with a teasing smile that re-lit the sparkle in her eye's.

"Of course, these are matters a mere estate managers assistant would never understand- you must forgive me!"

Darcy smiled then, amused once more at how with seemingly little genuine intent of discovering what he chose not to disclose, she delighted in taunting him with the incongruities in his character.

After some time in this manner, they began to walk through fields of a slightly more cultivated nature. Darcy presumed they were approaching The Bennet's home, on account of the manner in which Miss Elizabeth's hands seemed to fondly caress each passing tree and stile, familiarity so evident her demeanor.

What took him by surprise however, was the estate itself. Whilst by no means neglected, it was however clearly not managed to full capacity. He noted the run down fencing, the overgrown fields that spoke of being either under-stocked or not properly rotated, the fields of grain that although planted, had not been harvested in time, and the piles of hay that had begun to rot. Whilst the property could clearly afford a reasonable living, it was notable that with better management it could likely be much more profitable.

Miss Elizabeth, it seemed, noticed his disapproval.

"My father I fear, is more inclined to his library than his fields. With no son's to take an interest, I think Loungbourne shows his lack of care for such pursuits, does it not?"

Again, there was that hint of embarrassment in her words, yet Darcy got the distinct impression that whilst Miss Elizabeth was in no way blind to her families short-comings, she would also be fiercely defencive of them should ever the need arise.

"Whilst I must confess I personally favour great discipline in the running of an estate, perhaps that is on account of how I was personally raised. I have been raised to consider always my duty first. Duty to the family, duty to those less fortunate, and of course- perhaps the one I find comes most naturally, duty to the land.

My father taught me to consider my relationship with the land as much the same as a good marriage, if we take good care of the land, and treat it with deep respect, we will be rewarded with rich fruitage for our efforts. But that effort must be every day, and in every way."

"You have a great passion for the land, Sir." Miss Elizabeth said, admiration evident in her face.

"Indeed, Miss. I am not in my element in social settings, but when I am working with my hands, I feel as though I am my own master." Darcy coloured slightly, realizing that once again he had said much more than he wanted to.

"Of course, that said, I think I can easily see the attraction your father feels for the library. I confess a good balance is often most difficult to master."

Miss Elizabeth's eye's lit up at that. "You are a reader then!"

"Indeed Miss."

"Ah! Well then, you will indeed find much to talk of with Papa. I cannot begin to tell you how many nights we have spent, he and I, discussing a gook book!"

Darcy appreciated the lighter tone to the conversation. "And do you often agree?"

"Oh, as much as any male and female can I rather imagine. Papa would tell you that despite being the most sensible female in our house, I still fall prey to the inevitable female folly of romanticism. But of course- I disagree!"

They laughed together as they rounded a large old oak tree and stopped at last to take in Longbourne.

The house was in every way charming. Not overly large, and certainly had none of the grandeur of such great houses as Pemberly or Rosings, but none-the-less it certainly had a pleasing affectation. The evening sun bearing down upon it cast an almost golden hue to the stone walls, and glistened off the water, whilst a picturesque row of Geese ambled slowly over the bridge, scarcely even disturbed by the two girls who were running towards the house.

"Well, Mr Smith? What do you think of our home?" Came the voice of Mrs Bennet from just a few steps ahead.

"It is very charming, Ma'am." He replied genuinely.

"Hmm... yes... such a pity Mr Bennet and I had no sons. Still, all the same, I think we are very fortunate none-the-less." She tittered distractedly as she began to follow Mary towards the house.

Darcy frowned, wondering whatever she could mean by such a comment, but Miss Elizabeth spoke first.

"Come, you must meet Papa. I am sure we shall manage to prize him out of his library for at least a little while!"


	4. Chapter 4

_**Okay- Here is Chapter 4 at last! I beg forgiveness for how late it is and it's diminished quality (open to fixing faults if you let me know!) I have written this 3 times- each totally different, then decided to stop fussing and just put it out there! My attention has been hard to focus as my dad was just diagnosed with cancer and hospitalized with blood poisoning, whilst my niece is also in hospital, two hours in the other direction! And you know that sticky person that exists in every family just to hold everything together? Yeah thats me. So please point out any areas to fix- I'm not really happy with this but figured after 2 months, and with all the people who have been so kind as to fav/alert this story, something imperfect was better than nothing! So... with no further ado... here goes!  
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Mr Bennet Let out a long sigh as he listened to the tell-tale sounds of his family's return from Merryton. The clatter of his two youngest squabbling over who would get in the door first, almost resulted in putting the sharp pin through his finger instead of the large dragonfly he had been cataloging. He ruefully accepted that his peace was undoubtedly about to be disturbed. No doubt there were tales of new ribbons and lace, and endless frivolous diversions to be recounted. He, of course, would be expected to sit through it all and feign interest at least now and then.

Of course, he mused sardonically, he would not be alone in this pleasure. Indeed, Lizzy and Jane would have to live it all a second time at least! Thus emboldened, he finally roused himself to go join the womenfolk.

As he exited his Library however, he overheard his wife issuing hurried instructions to the maid to make up the guest room and inform Cook of a extra head for supper. His curiosity piqued, Mr Bennet wandered over to where his wife stood.

"We are expecting company then my dear?"

"Why yes Mr Bennet, we have a young gentleman just arrived in Merryton. A Mr Smith if you will. There was of course no place to stay there, what with the wedding and all..." Fussed Mrs Bennet, her face flushed with all the excitement.

"So you have invited him to stay with us?" He asked, one eyebrow raising in disapproval, heightening the flush in his wife's already red cheeks.

"Well,... well yes. At least, Lizzy invited him, that is. I didn't see any harm, he seemed such a lovely young man..." Her voice trailed off as she realized for the first time just how improper the entire situation had been.

At the revelation of Lizzy's involvement, Mr Bennet's second eyebrow shot up to join its partner. It was not overly uncommon in the Bennet household for unusual things, sometimes even somewhat improper things to take place, and over the years Mr Bennet had become such as to be not easily fazed by much of anything. But for the source of such an unusual goings on to be his own precious Lizzy...!

"Lizzy, you say?"

"Yes indeed Mr Bennet! Lizzy is seeing him settled in the parlour as we speak!"

Thus intrigued, though not yet entirely sure whether to be alarmed by his usually sensible daughters actions or not, Mr Bennet set off to meet his apparent houseguest.

The scene that greeted him in the parlour however, if not entirely easing his concerns, did succeed in putting Mr Bennet in a somewhat better humour. For there in a tired old settee, looking thoroughly bewildered, sat a handsome young man in his early twenties with an armful of what appeared to be Lydia's favorite gown and some matching ribbons. All the while Mr Bennet's youngest daughter intently demanded of him an opinion of which ribbons would best bring out the blue, whilst Lizzy, who was currently serving tea, attempted as best she could to simultaneously scold Lydia, whilst delicately discouraging Mary from entertaining them all with a tune or two at the piano.

Mr Bennet's eyes twinkled with wicked merriment as he observed the young gentleman struggling to hold his own in a room of nonsensical women. Indeed, he saw instantly in the gentleman's character that which had drawn his Lizzy's trust.

"I, I fear I am not well qualified to pass comment on such matters Miss, having as I do so little experience with such things."

"Oh but surely you have seen some of the fashionable ladies and what their wearing! Kitty thinks the deep navy will suit best, but I think the rose ones will be prettier by far! You must think the pink suits me better do you not?" Lydia asked, holding the ribbons against her hair and batting her lashes heavily.

Mr Bennet could have sworn the young man went several shades paler at this, just as Lizzy stepped in once more.

"Lydia! Let Mr Smith take his tea in peace, please! Now take these back upstairs before they get stained and are unfit to be worn at all. Mary, perhaps you could let Papa know we have a guest before a performance? Your tea, Mr Smith."

"Thank-you very much." The gentleman replied, looking for all intents as though, were it in his power to do so, he would leave the tea and run far away from this place.

"There will be no need for that my dear, as you see, I have already heard. Perhaps you might introduce me to your friend Lizzy?" Mr bennet smiled, taking pity on the poor man.

"Of course Papa, Mr Smith, this is our father, Mr Bennet. Papa, Mr Smith, of Derbyshire."

"A pleasure to meet you Sir. I am very much indebted to your family Sir, for your generous hospitality." The young man swept a graceful bow before straightening before him in an uncommonly correct posture that was obviously his wont.

Mr Bennet swept his eyes swiftly over the gentleman's appearance, noting the worn Jacket and breeches that seemed at odds with his fitted doeskin boots and polished deportment. He realized immediately that which his daughter had also seen at once, that Mr Smith was much more than he appeared at first glance.

"Yes, yes, well from what I hear of it you would have had to have found lodgings under a tree otherwise, and I have it on good authority that the comfit in such accommodations is sorely lacking. I have made it my business to avoid such accommodations for just such a reason."

Mr Smith here just smiled hesitantly in response before replying in awkward pleasantry,

"Your estate here is very pleasantly situated."

"Yes,...yes,... It does catch the sun quite nicely in the late evening."

Mr Bennet took his seat, and allowed an awkward silence to fall, as Mr Smith fidgeted with his hat before the maid at last returned to inform the family that dinner was ready to be served.

Dinner itself, as usual in the Bennet household, was a lively affair, with several voices all going at once, and as per usual, Mr Bennet himself merely sat back and entertained himself in watching the proceedings with loving amusement. Though tonight, he took the opportunity to closely observe his guests interactions also.

"….and you ought to have seen the carriages Mr Bennet!" continued Mrs Bennet's shrill voice, "Why, there are carriages enough for half the countryside! Mr burns was telling me that business has trebled in the past two days alone! Of course, that's a very good thing, seeing as how Mrs Burns is in a delicate way again. Yes indeed, it will help a great deal I imagine..."

"Oh and Papa! You should just see the Gentlemen! So many Gentlemen..." Lydia cried loudly over her mothers prattle, the subject being picked up then by Kitty also.

"Oh yes Papa! So many Gentlemen, I do hope we shall be introduced, can't we? Oh say you will!"

"But of course you shall be introduced, won't they Mr Bennet! Why, my mother always said one marriage begot another- perhaps it might be one of your turns next. Why, my Jane is certain to turn the heads of several of the young men, don't you think Mr Bennet? But of course, I'm sure you will all have your turn. Why just yesterday I was saying to Mrs Lucas..."

Darcy speared another piece of lamb roast and allowed the chatter and noise that seemed to characterize the Bennet family's dinner table to wash over him. He had long since given up the impossible task of attempting to keep track of the conversation. Indeed, even if one could follow the swift and taciturn twists of topic- which ranged from the potential colour and fabric of the Grooms coat, to the litter of pups the Butcher's wifes spaniel was due to have next week- then one could not possibly have heard an entire dialogue over the mere racket of noise.

Mrs Bennet kept up a steady stream of gossip, whilst Miss Kitty and Miss Lydia seemed to constantly giggle and titter between themselves over some topic or another, generally in reference to either gowns or gentlemen, or sometimes both. Meanwhile, Miss Elizabeth chipped in from time to time, usually to admonish one of her sisters for some inappropriate comment, or to attempt to turn her mothers ramblings away from some less than ideal topic, but sometimes merely with her tinkling laughter that seemed to bring the entire cacophony together, though not unpleasantly.

All the while, Mr Bennet looked on quietly, yet somehow apart. The look on his face bespoke a deep amusement at the raucous scene before him, yet a certain fondness in his eyes when they caught those of his second eldest daughter, also showed that the scene was not in the slightest bit uncommon. Indeed, great volumes seemed to be said between those two with nary a word spoken.

At first, Darcy had found himself utterly bewildered. Having been raised to keep a track of conversation at a table, and participate intelligently where appropriate, it was exceedingly disconcerting to find that whenever a comment was directed at him, before ever he got a chance to respond, the speaker had moved on already, often to an entirely different topic once again.

Eventually however, he had allowed himself to simply become a part of the backdrop, watching with ever growing interest the interaction between the family members.

Mrs Bennet, much alike her younger daughters, was a flighty and boisterous woman of seemingly little sense. But on closer observation, she was also an exceedingly loving mother, who had little else in her mind than the happiness of her family. Darcy assumed, observing her, that she had not come from a wealthy background, and therefore her manner was at times somewhat unrefined.

Mr Bennet, on the otherhand, was an older gentleman with the relaxed manners that spoke of the gentry. Though unlike most gentlemen Darcy had encountered before, he seemed little inclined to take an overly active role in his family. Indeed, he sat back and watched his family with the air of one who, although fond of them, longed to be in another -quieter- environment. His eyes sparkled with mirth, whilst his infrequent involvement in conversation betrayed him to be an intelligent man of a somewhat cynical humor and quick wit.

There was a great deal of evident affection between Mr and Mrs Bennet, despite the fact that each was so utterly different from the other. Indeed how two such people had become attached to one another, especially in light of Mrs Bennet's apparent lack of fortune, was beyond Darcy.

Slowly, the clamour ebbed to a more reasonable level as the desserts were served out, and as it did so, Darcy found himself less able to merely blend into the background.

Until now, his involvement in the ongoings had been limited to the odd reply to a comment directed at him by Miss Elizabeth, or sharing in agreement with some point raised by Mr Bennet. But now he had the unsettling experience of being watched most closely by the gentleman. This was confirmed when upon turning, Darcy found himself being observed intently.

"So what did you think of the Lamb, Mr Smith?" Mr Bennet inquired.

"It was very good Sir, you must be commended on such a fine animal."

Mr Bennet's lips quirked on one side with amusement.

"You could, but I fear the complement may be misplaced. But I am sure our butcher would be most gratified you think so."

"You do not raise your own livestock then?" Darcy enquired with no little surprise. To have such an estate and then need to purchase your own meat seemed a ridiculous waste to him, and it showed- again to Mr Bennet's humour.

"Oh we raise livestock to be sure, whether they are any good for anything on the other hand is another matter entirely. I fear I must admit to being a somewhat negligent sort, as you have no doubt seen already."

Darcy tried his best to mask his disapproval of such negligence, but found himself quite unsure how to respond politely to such a comment. Thankfully, Miss Elizabeth stepped in once more to fill the breech.

"Papa, Mr Smith helps manage an estate in Derbyshire, I'm sure he would have some most useful suggestions on such things."

"He does indeed, does he?" Mr Bennet smirked knowingly at Darcy, with the telltale lifted eyebrow that seemed so characteristic of both he and Miss Elizabeth. "I'm sure he would have some very helpful advice indeed my dear Lizzy, but I have no doubt that it would entail my Library growing a few cobwebs."

Darcy laughed at the lightened tone of conversation before replying,

"No but indeed Sir, I fear a library has so great a pull it cannot be left alone for too long, I quite agree. It is an art to discover the most beneficial balance, would you not say?"

At this Miss Elizabeth's eyes twinkled in merriment,

"Papa would not know, I fear Sir. He never found it!"

At this Mr Bennet clutched at his chest as though pierced through by an arrow.

"Et Tu Brute?"

A round of laughter ensued that managed to gain the attention of the rest of the ladies.

"Whatever is of such hilarity down there, Sir? You must share!"

Mrs Bennet enquired of Mr Smith, having spent the past few moment's noticing with growing interest the easy rapport that seemed to exist so naturally between He and Lizzy. To be sure, he was not wealthy, but Lizzy would be no easy child to marry off either, seeing as how stubborn and all-knowing she insisted on being. Marriage was marriage after all, and he was hardly riff-raff!

"We were merely discussing the merits of a good Library Madam." Darcy replied.

"Library!" Mrs Bennet snorted contemptuously, "Far too many ideas in such a place for my taste I fear!" She said, directing a pointed look at Lizzy that spoke of an disapproval so oft shared its conveyance needed no words. "Though to be sure, it seems a pleasant diversion for the gentleman." Her smile returned to it's usual tone, and the atmosphere lightened once more.

Darcy was unsure how to respond to such an interaction, and so chose to steer the topic safely away.

"I must commend your table, Ma'am. The meal was extremely satisfying."

Mrs Bennet positively beamed at such a compliment, and began to expound on the abundance of fine produce available at such a time.

Eventually, Mr Bennet slid his chair back noisily, thanked his wife for the meal, and declared it time to retreat once more to his library, to which Darcy himself was also invited for a glass of Brandy.


	5. Chapter 5

Mr Bennet sat in his favorite old armchair before the fire in his Library, and watched as the handsome young stranger pulled a seat across to join him.

Edward Bennet had never really been a man of many words, or for that matter actions. And as a result, he was often underestimated. Edward had long ago found that often, much more was said in a mere few moments silence than in many hours deep discussion, and this was most especially true when endeavoring to make out an individuals character.

The young man before him was just such a case in point. It had been almost immediately evident to him that Mr Smith was no average Estate Manager. No that had been easy to discern from such simple things as his overly polished comportment and his fine quality boots. But then, Edward had noticed when explaining his occupation, the young man had alluded to his being such, but not actually said so. How had he worded it? Ah, yes- he helped to manage a Gentleman's estate. But then, such could also be said of the heir to such an estate! Was he that then? The errant heir to some large estate? It was possible, though it was equally possible that he was a younger son, or even merely an adopted son, who had grown up with the advantages of such a class. That would certainly be more likely based on his comments so far. It would also fit with the actions the young man was currently displaying.

Mr Bennet had taken, rather impolitely, the only chair next to the fire immediately upon entering the Library, leaving his guest to choose from the other available seats nearby, and pull one up for himself. Had he been a man accustomed to taking luxuries for granted, he might have chosen the fine velvet and mahogany carved armchair. Had he been truly little more than a servant, he would no doubt have felt more comfortable in the simple wooden kitchen chair. Indeed, when a man was as uncomfortable as Mr Smith now appeared, his choices reflected that with which he was familiar. Mr Smith, for his part, had chosen an upright leather upholstered seat of cultured simplicity. Having done so, he now kept a rigid back and waited politely- though nervously- for Mr Bennet to begin the discussion.

Neither of these actions implied that he that he had the cocky arrogance so often seen in wealthy young heirs. No, but rather they suggested he was accustomed to having to prove his worth, taking nothing for granted. Finally, Mr Bennet relented and made conversation.

"I believe we have much to discuss, would you not agree Sir?" Edward asked, raising his eyebrow knowingly at the gentleman, choosing for now to keep him on edge. Though Edward had had already decided the young man posed no threat to his family, he still wanted to know more about the young man than he currently did.

"I can imagine you have much you would like to know, Sir, and quite rightly so. I shall be happy to answer what I can." Mr Smith replied with an sincerity that satisfied Mr Bennet's concerns.

"Hmmm... I dare say you will young man," Smirked Mr Bennet as he took the Brandy decanter and poured out two generous glasses, "But will your answers be more or less honest than your name?"

Edward struggled to keep his serious facade as the young man's face suddenly dropped and went as white as a sheet. So he had guessed correctly then- not only was 'Mr Smith' not his true name, but he was also extremely uncomfortable with the deception.

Placing the brandy glass into the young mans hand, he decided to give the young man a break.

"Now what I'd like to know, is why a young man who is so obviously uncomfortable with telling such a mistruth, would feel the need to do so?" He asked gently.

Mr Smith sat staring quietly into his glass for some time, weighing up his options before finally lifting his eye's to those of the old man. "I owe you an apology, Mr Bennet. You have been generous with your hospitality towards me, and I, in return, have not been truthful with you. Nor, Sir can I offer you complete candor. I completely understand if you would prefer I take my leave of your family."

Mr Bennet stared thoughtfully into the fire nodding to himself. When the gentleman had at last lifted his eye's to his, Edward had been shocked at the sheer desolation contained within. In that one moment the young man before him had let go of all pretenses, and the very depths of his soul had shown through his eye's.

Edward had never been a believer in such things as fate and destiny, but in that moment he had almost felt as though he had been sent this young man for a reason. As he had delivered his speech, the vulnerability in the young mans eyes had given way to a sad resolve, behind which Edward saw the framework of a man who could be so much, strong and decent with a heart of pure gold, but was for now, broken almost beyond repair.

Edward Bennet did not know what could have caused such pain in one so young, or what could make him so desperate as to run from all he knew and hide behind another name, but he did know one thing beyond question. To make him go, nay, even to let him go, would be a horrendous mistake.

Edward felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility towards the young man. He had no idea wether or not he could alter the haunted look in the young mans eye's, or even wether he would ever discover it's cause, but something deep within him told him that if he was ever to be repaired, he needed to be here.

Finally, taking a long sip of his Brandy, he drew his eye's away from the fire and looked into those of a man who right now looked like little more than a boy playing dress up in his fathers clothes.

"What can you tell me?"

Darcy felt a breath he had scarcely felt himself holding, leave him in a relieved puff of air as the old man finally spoke. It wasn't acceptance. It wasn't even forgiveness. But Darcy knew a thing or two about working to prove himself.

He was being given a chance. Darcy had no idea what at, but he felt the desire to grasp onto it for dear life, and had the strange sensation of his entire life being held in this strange old mans hands. The only problem was, he had no idea what to tell him.

"I,... I changed my name on account of needing to keep my whereabouts hidden. I have been granted, or perhaps I ought say I have taken, a leave of absence from my life, which cannot be done if anyone were to know my name."

"Your not an estate managers hand, are you." Mr Bennet stated.

"No Sir. I am not." Mr Bennet nodded sagely into the fire once more.

"I have no son's, Mr Smith. But were I to have one, I rather imagine that his sudden disappearance would cause me great alarm. So I ask you- is there some distraught Mother, or concerned Father scouring the countryside in search of their lost son?"

Darcy quickly averted his eye's from the old man's in hopes that he might hide the sudden pain that question inspired in him. No, there was no loving parents anxious for his return. But as he glanced back up, he had the impression that Mr Bennet had seen all that had gone through his mind.

"No, Sir. My Mother passed away when I was a mere boy, and my Father is aware of my absence if not my whereabouts, though I have no fear he could find me if he so desired with little real effort."

Mr Bennet nodded once more. "No abandoned wife or child, I assume?"

"No Sir." Darcy replied.

"Ah," Said Mr Bennet, looking amused once more, "So you are unattached. That should keep Mrs Bennet entertained!"

"I,... That is...I'm not exactly..." Darcy stumbled incoherently, as Mr Bennet raised his eyebrow once more with a smirk on his face.

"Then you are attached?"

"No, well yes,... That is,..." Darcy sighed heavily, his shoulders slouching. "I will be. My engagement is to be announced in one years time."

"Ah. I see. An unwilling bridegroom it would appear. Can it not be avoided?"

"No Sir. I fear not. The cost is too high."

"I see. Well, you need only share that and you will have peace from my beloved wife I daresay. Womenfolk tend to understand rather allot about marriages of necessity I fear. And does this have any bearing on your reasons for being here now?"

"It does. I fear there was so much involved, so many sacrifices... I had to get away. To find some peace and order in my own mind before attempting to do so in my life."

"I see. And you thought this would be best served by appearing of no fortune?" Mr Bennet appeared amused once more.

"Indeed. Were I to be recognized, I would face a continuing cycle of the pretense my life has become. As a man of simple means, I can go undetected. I,... I simply desire a measure of anonymity"

"I see, and how long do you intend to run from your fate for young man?"

"I, I'm not,... I must be back one year from now. Beyond that I have no specific plans."

"Hmmmm, I see." Mr Bennet murmured, swirling the last of his brandy around the bottom of his glass. At last, he drained the glass and set it down, turning to face his guest.

"Mr Smith, I have a proposal for you. You need a place to lie low, and be a nobody. I can offer you just such a position should it interest you. It has recently come to my attention that there are reasons manyfold I ought to have made a greater effort with this estate. Perhaps had I done so, my daughters might have more to reccomend themselves to a potential suitor. In any case, I have been considering of late taking on a steward to try and return this estate to a more profitable state. But I fear I was never much of an estatesman, and truly have no idea where to begin. I make no exaggeration when I say that the running of this estate is in an utter mess. But if you have experience in such things, perhaps you might be of a mind to take an interest in assisting me in this regard. You would be welcome to stay just as long as you liked, and perhaps together we might even be able to construct a back story for you that is more believable." Mr Bennets last words were spoken with a cynical grin that flushed Darcy's face with embarrassment.

Darcy sat there a moment is shocked silence. Instead of being turned aside, or told to grow up and go home, he was being offered a place to stay, and meaningful work to loose himself in. Most young men of Darcy's station would be utterly horrified by the mere suggestion of spending time as a steward on a small estate, but to Darcy it sounded like a dream. It was a chance to loose himself. A chance to breathe. A chance to live.

"Mr Bennet, I cannot begin to express my appreciation. I would be honored Sir."

"The honor would be all mine, I think dear boy. Now, there are some details that should be sorted out before we begin..."

For the next half hour, they discussed how best to present the situation to the family, and also the community at large. It was agreed that Darcy was not going to pull off the manners of a simple country steward, yet he could hardly be introduced as gentry either. At last it was settled upon that he would be a distant cousin of Mrs Bennets, who they had offered a position after his families falling upon hard times. Due to the nature of his troubles, he would not be inclined toward social interaction, but being family, he could be included where a common steward could not.

Mr Bennet was certain that his wife would gladly accept such a situation, despite knowing of it's falsehood, (here he did suggest however, that due to her propensity for gossip, she be told as little of the truth as was possible) and would likely enjoy having a son of sorts on whom to dote. Meanwhile, he believed his younger daughters were too self-involved or foolish to think anything of it, whilst his two elder daughters could be counted upon to keep his confidence, though however much he chose to share with them was up to Darcy's discretion. Mr Bennet suggested that whilst Miss Jane was sweet and accepting, Miss Elizabeth was far more intelligent and may push for information.

Eventually, all things settled upon, it was decided that they ought return to the company of the ladies, who now also included the recently returned Miss Jane Bennet.

Entering the sitting room, Darcy was struck by the simplistic beauty of the domesticity before him. On one side of the room, Mrs Bennet sat beside Miss Kitty, trying to show her how to mend an article of clothing without its being noticeable, whilst Miss Lydia sat tying ribbons onto a bonnet, and Miss Mary sat reading a book of sermons. On the other side of the room, Miss Elizabeth sat on a love-seat with another young women, Miss Jane he assumed, laughing and talking in a quiet yet animated fashion together.

Darcy no longer wondered why Mrs Bennet had seemed so certain that her eldest would be the first of her daughters to marry, she was, in a word, stunning. Long golden tresses framed a pale oval face, with rosy lips and pale blue eye's lined with long dark lashes. She truly was a beauty fit to put the finest ladies of London to shame. Even her figure was perfect, soft and rounded whilst still small and elegant, in contrast to her sisters who were all much more angular. Indeed, finding a husband would not be too hard a job for Mrs Bennet in this case.

Darcy's musings were interrupted, as Mr Bennet cleared his voice loudly, gaining the attention of the entire room.

"Well, I have a most unexpected announcement to make tonight, my dears. It seems we may all be grateful to our dear Lizzy. She has, however unwittingly, discovered not only a fine new acquaintance, but a member of our own family."

Varying looks of surprise passed around the room at this, until Mrs Bennet demanded,

"Family? Mr Smith? However can it be?"

"Family indeed, Mrs Bennet, a son of your own mothers cousin my dear. Indeed ,you recall, they had a fine estate down near Derbyshire. Sadly however, that family fell on hard times some time ago and lost their all my dear. Mr Smith here, is now left quite alone with no choice but to help manage a nearby estate."

"Oh but that's terrible!" Mrs Bennet mourned, already wondering what her husband was up to, after all, both her grandparents had been only children and therefore her mother had had no cousins.

"Indeed, indeed, my dear. Therefore, I wonder how you all might feel about his staying awhile longer than was planned my dear? Mr Smith is currently out of employment for a time, and we ourselves could greatly benefit from the services of a steward on the estate. I have therefore asked Mister Smith if he might like to stay on awhile."

"Oh but to be sure Mr Bennet! Oh what a delight! It would be a pleasure! Oh I must go ask Bessy to..." Mrs Bennets effusions disappeared into the hallway, and both men smiled at how well she had played along.

Finally, the rooms other occupants all regained their speech and warmly welcomed him into the family. A slow smile worked it's way over Darcy's face, yes- he could enjoy his time here.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Okay- so this chapter is twice as long by way of thankyou for the huge responce I have had to this story! This is the first chapter since chapter 1 where it has felt like it flowed better, so I just love all the emotions in here. Hopefully a bit more history, to add a few more puzzle peices so to speak. This story is about so much more than just Darcy and Lizzy, and I hope this chapter shows that.**_

_**Thanks so much for your reviews- I struggle with confidence, and your reviews mean the world to me. ALNovick- thanx for your comments- I'm an infrequent reviewer too- but I think I'd like to do it more considering how much confidence they give me. This site has some incredible talent!  
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_**Thanks for all the kind words about my Dad and neice. Dads been hospitalized three times in just a few short weeks, and my 2 yr old neice has just been booked in for yet another major surgery to remove her 3rd vital organ. So things are not pretty. But distraction is a wonderful thing! So here goes...  
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Mrs Bennet felt the bed depress as her husband climbed wearily in beside her. They both sat against the headboard in companionable silence for awhile before she smiled as his hand snuck across to take her own. Folding her fingers around his, Bethany looked across to see her husband sitting with his eye's closed and a small smile playing about his lips. She knew he was waiting.

"So, you do know my mother had not a cousin to her name, don't you?" She prompted.

Mr Bennet simply smiled indulgently at his wife, and looked across into her eyes.

"What do you think it would have been like, do you suppose? To have a son?"

Bethany sucked in a deep breath. This was a subject they never discussed, not in private in any case. Each knew the other would have loved a son, and was deeply dissapointed it never happened, but to talk about it dredged up too much pain. Too many memories.

After Lydia was born, Bethany had suffered severely, she had come very close to loosing her life. There had been so much blood loss, and she had lain unconscious for almost a week. Both mother and child had been in very real danger, and when at last the doctor had explained that she would never bear children again, the pain of the son they would never have had been lost in the joy of the lives they had been so blessed to keep.

In time, of course, that fact had been remembered. Bethany's grief and her guilt had been almost unbearable. But Edward had never allowed her to speak of it. Any effort to broach the subject had been kissed away as he thanked her for the children he had. Initially she had been grateful for it, the knowledge that he did not blame her a relief. But as the realization of their situation had sunk in over the next few months, her need to talk about it had slowly built. Not only about that, but about their other lost son, their first child. The child that had never been spoken of, but she had carried in her heart every day since.

Bethany shut her thoughts away. Some things, it seemed, really were better left in the past. She had left all that behind, many years ago, so why would he dredge it up now? Over time, her anger had passed, the pain dulled. She had buried herself in her children, Lydia in particular, so precious for so nearly having been lost. Bethany had buried her love, her loss, her pain and her tears, all in the care of that one precious being. And time had done the rest. The only reminder, a resentment towards Edward that simmered away just beneath her love for him.

She returned to the present as he gently squeezed her hand, and as she looked into his eye's then, she saw for the first time the pain, sorrow, regret and guilt, he had also hidden away these many years.

"I never told you how sorry I was, Bethany. How sorry I am."

Bethany's eye's filled with tears, and she covered her mouth with her hand to stop herself from sobbing out loud. All those years, all she had needed was for him to show her this. To know he shared her pain. And a part of her had hated him for not.

It had destroyed them. They had never been the same. Oh they tried, and in many ways succeeded. Bethany could not complain of an unhappy marriage. But after Lydia, after the finality of that day, when she had needed him most and he had simply begun to hide away in his Library, she had given up. They would always love each other, But Edward and Bethany, the great romance, had never returned. Companionship took the place of passion, avoidance the place of communication.

They remained in silence awhile as Bethany tried to rein in her emotions. Finally Edward broke the silence.

"Isn't it funny how you never appreciate what you have? Some men have what others crave, yet never see what a treasure they possess." He murmered.

"Who is he? Really?" Mrs Bennet asked, turning to look at him again.

"A lost son? A broken spirit? Someone too young to loose his soul to the depths of despair." Mr Bennet looked into his wifes eye's meaningfully and squeezed her hand, "Something we know a thing or two about, I think."

Bethany let out a shrill and bitter laugh. "So you want to take him in like a lost puppy?"

"I turned away once when I was needed. I won't do it again. Maybe, in fixing him, we can fix this." He responded gently, lifting her fingers and kissing them.

Bethany swallowed hard, as the tears streamed down her cheeks.

"You can't fix people, Edward."

"Perhaps not- but it was wrong not to try."

Bethany heard his use of the past tense, and allowed him to pull her into his embrace, accepting the first true comfort he had offered, in nearly 30 years.

According to habit, Mr Darcy awoke the next morning at 5am. For several moments he lay in bed simply listening to the sounds around him. At Pemberly, he would hear the soft sounds of his valet sorting his day's attire, as well as the light rustle of a maids skirts passing by outside his rooms. Further away, the sounds of the kitchens could be just made out, whilst the gentle baying from the stables suggested the animals were already being fed. Yet further afield, the sounds of hundreds of birds starting their day.

Here, however, at Longbourne, he had the distinct impression that he was the first to rise.

As he stood before the wash table and prepared himself for the day, Darcy could make out the individual calls of the birds, he recognized in particular the songs of the chaffinch , robin, and blue-tit, and further off the familiar call of the yellowhammer, whilst smiling to himself at the loud honking of geese that flocked near the house.

He stood with closed eyes for a second, and just savored the peacefulness of the moment.

He had always considered Pemberly peaceful. Loved those early morning sounds that lent him a sense of safety and belonging. But he was surprised to find he did not miss the sounds of a large estate as much as he would of thought. Indeed, as he stood there absorbing the silence that he knew would soon be shattered by the shrill sounds of a largely female household, he felt as though years of stress and strain were sliding from his shoulders. The feeling was at once refreshing and disturbing.

Suddenly, his eye's opened as he heard a door ever so quietly open, then close again. Moments later, the soft sound of slippered footsteps crept quietly past his door towards the staircase. Darcy smiled, perhaps he was not the only early riser. Reminding himself that he was now Mr Smith, He tied his simple necktie, and went to make his way downstairs.

Darcy carefully kept his footfalls light soas not to wake anyone who preferred to rise late, and decided to make his way to the kitchen to see if there was any chance of an early meal. He was surprised to find himself most eager to start his assessment of the estate.

He was not an idle man by nature, and was therefore grateful for the opportunity to immerse himself in a meaningful project. He was secretly thrilled, however, to face the challenge that Longbourne posed. From what he had seen yesterday, the estate had suffered years, decades perhaps, of utter neglect. To pull that around in under a year was a near impossible task, but one Darcy was determined to achieve.

Darcy had been shouldering the better part of the responsibility of running the Pemberly estates for some years now, his fathers health having limited his active participation in such endeavors. Thus Darcy had become proficient in all the finer details of management, from running books, dealing with tenants, and coordinating workers, to the more mundane matters such as fencing, animal husbandry, and crop rotation, which most gentleman would have considered beneath them. Darcy however, preferred to know all the elements of the work done on the estate. Time had even taught him to derive a certain pleasure, or perhaps it was pride, from being able to see the results of his own handiwork.

However all his work had been accomplished under the strict watch of his father. Darcy was not involved in the large decisions, and had no right to suggest better, more efficient methods where he felt they were needed. No- he had little true control over the direction of affairs, and whilst this was only proper as his father remained the true master of Pemberly, he could not deny that he longed for the opportunity to prove himself.

He had learned from Mr Bennet last night that there were a total of three men employed to care for the estate, but Darcy would wager that in the absence of good management, they were achieving the combined workload of one. His first task therefore, was to meet the workers he would be over and review their current routine. But first, he would take an early morning walk to get a better idea of the estate.

His mind was thus engaged, when upon entering the kitchen, he heard the muffled sounds of crying. Coming to a sudden stop, he felt almost immobilized as he watched the scene play out before him. There, sat in an old wooden kitchen chair just in front of a glowing fire, sat Miss Jane Bennet. The light from the fire glistened in her golden hair as her head bent over her lap in misery. Miss Elizabeth kneeled on the cold stone floor before her, holding her hands in her own.

"Oh Jane, how long have you been here?"

"Just an hour or so. I.. I just couldn't sleep, and I cannot lay still any longer. I didn't want to wake you, Lizzy." Whispered Miss Bennet.

"Oh, Jane. You should have woken me. That's what sisters are for." Miss Elizabeth gently scolded her sister. "Dear Jane, I'm so sorry, I honestly thought you were past this, how could I not have seen?"

"Oh Lizzy, you must not think me so weak as to still be in love with him, it is only, I dread the comments of others."

"Of course. I do not know how I did not think of it sooner. You do not have to go you know. I'm quite sure you could suffer a dreadful headache or some such."

"No Lizzy, don't you see? The gossips will talk if I am to attend, but they will talk far more if I do not. No, I must go, Lizzy. If we are ever to meet as indifferent acquaintances."

"My precious Jane, you are so much better than I could ever be!"

"Oh Lizzy, don't say that, you know..."

Here Miss Elizabeth caught sight of Darcy standing frozen in the kitchen doorway.

"Mr Smith!" She gasped in surprise.

"Miss Elizabeth. Miss Bennet." Darcy replied awkwardly, nodding his head to each.

"I merely came to see if the cook was in yet, I had hoped to get something to eat before getting started early."

"Oh, I see. Yes of course. You are an early riser Sir, I fear cook will not be in for another half hour."

Miss Elizabeth still kneeled by her sisters feet, clutching her sisters hand tightly within her own, her eye's wide and concerned at his presence. Miss Jane meanwhile turned into the fire a tad more as she surreptitiously endeavored to wipe the tears from her eye's.

Only now did Darcy notice that both ladies were still in white cotton nightdresses, with a simple colored sleeveless cotton robe over the top. Whilst Miss jane had let out her hair and it tumbled in golden curls down her back, Miss Elizabeth's was still plaited for sleep.

Darcy's face flamed in horror at the impropriety of such a situation, and he began to stumble through an apology as he backed rapidly from the room.

"I beg your pardon, please,... I did not mean to intrude. I only came for something to eat,... but I see Miss Bennet is upset, I,... I will leave you." With that he turned on his heel and left swiftly, not content to leave the room only, but leaving the house completely, determined to begin his work without the luxury of food.

Elizabeth and Jane heard the door close behind him, and the ring of his boots across the tiled courtyard, and looked at each other in dismay.

"How odd!" Lizzy smiled in amusement to her sister.

"He must wonder what he walked in on, poor man!" Jane blushed, smiling a little at last.

"Jane! Is that a smile?" To which Jane merely blushed further.

"Well I never! It seems I must thank Mr Smith for achieving what I could not!" Lizzy laughed, using the moments embarrassment to further bolster her sisters mood.

"Now, you cannot attend the wedding looking like that, or I dare say the groom shall refuse to take his vows! Lets go make you a picture, so he may know what he has lost!"

"Lizzy!" Jane rebuked in horror, rising from her chair. But Lizzy had managed to ease her worries in the way she always did, and she could not find it within her to be truly cross.

Having recuperated from his earlier embarrassment, Darcy had thrown himself wholly into the estate. Knowing that the Bennet family would be gone for most of the day, Darcy didn't have to worry over what level of interaction would be deemed polite, and therefore chose not to return to the house until he was satisfied his days work was done. He had begun his day by taking a walk about the estate, making notes of all the work required, and trying to prioritize it all in his head. Then, about mid-morning, he arranged to meet with the workers.

The workers he found, consisted of an elderly man, Bernard, who had lived on the estate all his life, and his two nephews Stephen and George. The two younger men were only 18 and 17 respectively, and had little experience in estate work, but Bernard had worked the estate inside and out for the past 60 years, and had a knowledge and a passion for it that Darcy knew would serve serve him well. Rather than resenting the newcomer, the three men were relieved that there would be more guidance, and eagerly followed Darcy's direction.

By the time the Bennet's returned in the late evening light, he found himself in the stables, quietly trying to organize the day's discoveries in his mind, as he polished the livery. He smiled to himself at what his Aunt would say if she could see him now, perhaps she would refuse to allow a man such as himself to marry Anne. But he sobered as he realized that would only serve to sentence Georgiana. He rubbed his face distractedly as he considered this, realizing too late that such an action merely smeared the polish across his skin. Trying to rub it away, but only spreading it further in the so doing, he was getting very flustered when a gentle laugh came from the doorway. He looked up to see Miss Elizabeth stood in the doorway, trying to hide her amusement, and failing miserably.

Mr Smith, or whomever he really was, was sat on a stool scrubbing polish into a harness when she entered the stable, his dark hair had fallen forward over his temples, and a look of deep concentration filled his face as he gently worked the polish into the stiff leather. Suddenly, a look of great amusement, followed swiftly by that of deep sadness crossed his features, and he paused in his ministrations to rub his hand tiredly over his face, leaving dark polish stains down either side of his temples. Realizing what he had done, he tried to rub it away, only putting more on than he had taken off. Her sudden laughter surprised her almost as much as it had him.

The harness clattered to the floor as Mr Smith stood suddenly in acknowledgment of her presence. Just one more thing that didn't add up about him. He glanced down at it, seemingly as shocked by his own reaction as she herself. Elizabeth smiled at him and walked forward, setting the plate in her hand on a table by his side.

"Cook mentioned you had not returned to the house all day, I thought you might appreciate something to eat." She said simply.

"Yes, thank you."

They stood for a moment in awkward silence as he registered the food she had brought. Just some cheese, pickle and cob loaf, but under the circumstances it was very much appreciated. What had him by surprise however, was the vision she made, standing there in the late evening sun.

She wore a simple white linen gown, with a pink shawl, clearly still dressed in the garb she had worn to the wedding, though her hair had been let down partially. But as the first stains of sunset lit the skies with brilliant hues of red, gold, and orange, the shades shone all around her, gleaming off her alabaster skin, and glistening in her rich dark hair, her gown painted in all the colors of God's creation. It was this vision, that had startled him. Stolen his breath and his thoughts. And as he had rushed to his feet, remembering his manners, her eye's had glistened with amusement that only made the picture yet more stunning.

Finally recovering himself, he broke the moment.

"Miss Elizabeth, I must apologize for this morning. I had no idea of anyone's being in the kitchen. I was so carried away with my own thoughts that I did not realize it until I was upon you."

"Mr Smith, you have no need to apologize. It was only awkward, as my Sister was very upset."

Darcy was silent for a moment, although he did not remove his earnest gaze from Elizabeth's, managing to convey his concern and regret without words. Elizabeth wondered how much he had heard, but knew it would be impolite to ask. At last, he provided the opportunity himself.

"And did you enjoy the wedding?"

"I did. Weddings are always such fun, what with all the dancing and such. Though I do not think Jane enjoyed it so much. I do not know how much you heard this morning, but perhaps I can explain." Elizabeth started, deciding in the moment that it was better he know the truth than live under their roof for however long with wrong assumptions.

"The man who was wed today was a close neighbour of ours, Mr Alex Lucas. My sisters and I grew up playing with Alex and his sisters, his sister Charlotte is my dearest friend to this day. But some years ago, as is only proper as the heir to Lucas Lodge, Mr Alex went off to boarding school. We didn't see him again for several years, and when he finally returned we could hardly recognise him. I suppose we had all grown much older.

Jane and Alex had always gotten on marvelously, and I suppose as children we always just assumed they would one day marry. When he returned he began to call on Jane often, and they became very close. Jane is such a delicate heart. She is so open to think the very best of everyone, and she loves so very deeply and loyally. She loved Alex, completely.

Mr Lucas, it seemed returned her love, he even wrote her some ghastly poetry! He asked Papa for his permission to ask for her hand, and that's when it all went wrong. Upon learning of Jane's lack of fortune, he suddenly backed off. It seems that Lucas Lodge has some financial problems, and that love could not be inducement enough. Mr Lucas left Hertfordshire, and six months later we heard of his impending marriage. He had met a wealthy young lady in London it seems. He had a title, she had a fortune.

Jane has suffered terribly over it all, and today she was the talk of all the gossips. You can understand, therefore, her sadness this morning."

"Indeed. I'm very sorry for her disappointment. Will she recover?" Darcy's heart went out to the young women. But he also knew that some young ladies never recovered from such a disappointment, pining away for the remainder of their lives. Much depended on her strength of character and disposition.

"I think so. She has improved much over the past months, only..." Miss Elizabeth swiped away an errant tear before continuing. "Only I do not think she will ever be able to open her heart so readily again. Perhaps she will find love again, but it will take a very special man to unlock her heart I fear."

Darcy watched the woman before him, feeling her sister's pain as though it were her own. He was well aware that this discussion was well outside the barriers of propriety, but to be honest, everything about his current situation was of dubious propriety.

"You love your sister a great deal." He observed.

"She is the very best of people. She is all that is good and virtuous. I love her very much indeed." Elizabeth responded wiping away her tears. "Do you have any siblings?"

Darcy turned sheet white at the question. Georgiana. Precious, beautiful, innocent Georgiana. She trusted him above all others, and he had left her without so much as a thought. She had no idea where he disappeared to or why, and no word to assure her of his welfare.

"Mr Smith? Are you quite all right?" Elizabeth asked, concerned by his sudden pallor.

"Yes." Darcy replied, his voice thick with emotion. "Yes, I have a sister. It is only,... I left so suddenly,... I never thought,... She will be distraught with worry."

Elizabeth had no idea what had brought this stranger into their lives, but whatever it was, it would appear it was sudden, and it had well near destroyed him. Taking charge of the situation, Elizabeth walked across and lifted the untouched plate of food, placing it in his hands.

"Come inside. After such a long day, nobody will miss you overly. Go upstairs and have a bite to eat. I will send Stephen up with some warm water to wash and some stationary. Then tomorrow we will send your letter to your Sister by express. She will be much relieved to hear from you."

Some while later Darcy sat washed and fed at a small writing desk Miss Elizabeth had had moved into his room. He sealed his letter to Georgiana, a simple missive to assure her of his well-being and apologize for his sudden departure. He included no details of his whereabouts, knowing that such a confidence would only cause her more grief at his families hands than it would impart reassurance, and suggested he may be gone some time. Should she need anything, he bade her trust Harvey. He knew she would be fine with his family so long as he kept their arrangement, but also trusted Harvey in the event of any unexpected events, to be resourceful enough to get a message to him.

Task accomplished, Darcy smiled as he allowed his mind to wander to those last moments in the stables. Miss Elizabeth had a natural mothering instinct, and although he knew he was a mere stranger to her, and her to him, he was surprised to find it strangely pleasant to be cared for in such a manner. To have someone care if he had eaten. Someone see to his needs. Not a servant who was paid to do so, but another human-being purely out of the goodness of their heart. He smiled as he thought of the glowing terms she had used to describe her sister. She had no idea, he mused to himself, how much her own kind heart held in common with her sisters.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Hi guys. Sorry for such a long wait, my life has been so stressful that I wrote this chapter 4 times before finally getting a version that I felt happy with. Funnily enough it is missing most of what I wanted to see in this chapter, but every time I got this chapter to achieve my 'list',it just felt forced. So I finally chose to just let this chapter form as it wanted. I had wanted Darcy's attraction to take longer, but the more I get to 'know' him the more I realise that his connection with Elizabeth is out of his control, almost instinctual. Also, remember Darcy is younger here, so more easily led by emotions.**_

_**On a note to reviewers/PM's thank-you for all the response, even the pull-up's on Grammar! I am using a better program now, so hopefully it will allow less slips. I usually write in the wee small hours of the morning when I'm tired but cannot sleep, and I apologise for the errors that result. As per a beta... perhaps the anonymous reviewer might volunteer? She's pretty good! **_

_**LotsOfLaundry- Thanks for your kind words. Dads doing better, but not so my niece. Such a beautiful creature, so happy, but so very very sick. Sorry I don't respond to PM's, I don't want to give out my e-mail address.**_

**Chapter 7**

In the days that followed, they all seemed to fall into an oddly comfortable arrangement.

Darcy had volunteered to move out to the steward's quarters, which adjoined the stables not so very far from the house, after just a few days of his arrival. Mrs Bennet, of course, had strongly protested the suggestion, but her husband had quickly seen the advantages such a change in circumstances presented.

For one thing, whilst the Bennets had enjoyed no social outings, nor in turn hosted any during the days following the Lucas wedding, such would not be the case for long. As a distant relative and indeed a houseguest, it would be expected that William Smith join any such party. As a steward however, albeit a distant relative, his role was expected to fall into the background. His familial connection could therefore simply be used as grounds for extending generosity in the form of employment to a distant family member fallen upon hard times. If the community at large saw no more of him thereafter, it would then be of no great significance.

Additionally, there was also the issue of the prolonged nature of his stay. As he was, in all actuality, not of the family, and his stay was in all likelihood to be many months in duration, it would be better for all concerned to have some space and privacy, whilst at the same time maintaining some semblance of propriety. The fact was lost on neither Darcy nor Mr Bennet, that should the unlikely event of Darcy's discovery indeed occur, it was vital that no breech in propriety be in a position to damage the family's reputation.

Darcy was also conscious, although he would never voice such thoughts aloud, of the need for some space between himself and certain members of the Bennet family. He was a guest in their home and reliant entirely upon their mercy, inasmuch, he was generally able to see them through the light of gratitude, and thereby choose to focus on their better attributes. But the fact remained that they were for the best part so very removed from the calibre of his usual acquaintance. As such, the behaviour and manners of certain members of the family, had a propensity for grating on his nerves. It was not so very impossible that prolonged familiarity could indeed breed contempt.

This decided upon, he had transferred to the simple living quarters allocated for the use of the estate manager. The quarters were small and simple, but none-the-less comfortable. Especially so was this the case, when between Mr Bennet and Miss Elizabeth, several items were chosen from the house to be for his own personal use. A writing desk and small selection of books of surprisingly good taste chosen by Miss Elizabeth, along with a large leather armchair and large warm area rug donated from Mr Bennets own Library made an impressive impact on the warmth and comfort of the space. In a very short period of time, the small rooms began to feel quite homely.

Despite this, he continued at Mrs Bennet's insistence, to share both the morning and evening meals with the family. His midday meal, however, was generally eaten alone or in the company of the hands alongside which he worked.

In many ways, Darcy's daily routine was not overly dissimilar to his life at Pemberley. He would still rise just before dawn as the sky took on a delicate shade of grey, though here there was a notable absence of menservants preparing the fire and straightening the room, and no caring valet to help him dress in preparation for the day ahead. Just as the first rays of sun would rise over the hills, he would find himself setting forth to roam the fields, always with some practical purpose in mind or other, but in all honesty it was a simple love for the countryside at this time of day, when the birds were just stirring and most beings were still abed, that spurred him out into the Hertfordshire countryside in the hours preceding the morning meal.

It was just five days after his arrival, that Darcy discovered he was not alone in such a habit.

He had found a scarcely used trail leading through the gardens to the rear of the house. The gardens in this particular area had become somewhat overgrown, the ivy shrouding the ground and climbing through old fruit trees that had borne little worth eating in many years. Perhaps that was why he had not noticed this track previously in his wanderings, or perhaps it was on account of how the trail led through overgrown bushes and trees that Darcy had to duck his head to get through. In any case, once beyond the immediate shrubbery at the rear of the house, the track led down away from the house towards a small stream lined by sweeping willows and swaying foxgloves. Here, a small footbridge spanned the small stream before leading out into wide open fields that were cloaked with a dense morning fog, the odd tree sticking out of the mist like islands at sea.

Directly before him, Darcy noticed something unexpected. As the old stone path ended at the footbridge, he had not before noticed any signs of previous use, but now he noticed a thin silvery trail wending through the wet grass, where heedless footprints had trodden down the early morning dew laden leaves.

Curious as to whom it might be, he worked through the staff that might be about at such an hour. Bernard was certainly not, his aging bones gave him too much trouble in the cold and damp to meander through the countryside at such an early hour. Stephen and George both ought to be in the house by now, starting fires and cleaning out grates.

It was a job that Darcy had been horrified to find fell to the only ladies maid, when one morning upon heading out for his walk he had collided with a cold and damp Sarah carrying a huge stack of logs back to the house. Upon finding out that Sarah carried the wood, cleaned the grates and started the fires all by herself each morning, Darcy was livid. He had taken the logs from her, and stacked them in the house himself telling her to return to her official duties. After that, he had headed over to the workers cottage and tossed a pail of cold water across the two snoring boys whose lazy habits had been annoying Darcy now for several days.

Darcy smiled at the memory of how fast the two boys had shot out of their beds, spluttering and cursing as the cold water soaked though their clothes. Darcy had explained in his cold fury, that as they lay abed slumbering, a mere ladies maid was heaving about wood in the early dawn doing chores that ought to fall to them as men. Their heads had hung low as he told them of the raw scrapes up Sarah's pale arms from the rough wood. They had scarcely been able to meet the sweet girls eye's since.

No- indeed if either of those boys were not diligently carting wood at present, than it would only be due to a failure to get out of bed, not a sudden desire to roam the fields!

That only left three options. Cook, who- although a kindly woman- was also a somewhat heavyset woman, and did not really strike him as a wanderer. Bessie, the housekeeper, but he had already seen her hanging out the laundry, and Sarah herself. Sarah also was out on account of his having spied her out feeding the chooks just moments ago.

Darcy smiled ruefully as he thought the young woman. She was a diligent worker, ever conscious of what needed to be done and willing to do it. But trying to remind her that she was a ladies maid, and therefore not responsible for the running of the house, was virtually wasted breath.

Being a ladies maid to a total of six women was task aplenty. As such, Sarah was responsible for dressing the ladies, doing their hair and makeup, and the keeping of their wardrobes and rooms. Darcy laughed to think how Miss Sutton- Georgiana's ladies maid would cope with such a workload, even without all the additional tasks Sarah imposed upon herself for the smooth running of the household.

That only left members of the family.

Mr Bennet was not an early riser, and even less one to needlessly roam outdoors.

Mrs Bennet was much the same, a late riser and ill inclined to walk about the grounds, although she did enjoy her strolls to town and the like, these were more social in nature.

Both the younger girls seemed to sleep as late as they could each morning, Miss Kitty hardly even being able to wake sufficient for conversation at breakfast. Miss Lydia, Darcy quickly found, was one that could not be in any way predicted. The girl was lively to the extreme, and any attempt to harness her behaviour seemed to serve only to make her yet wilder.

Miss Mary, although not a late riser, could most often be found reading her Bible in the early morning hours, and although Darcy generally avoided the house until the morning meal in order to allow the family their privacy- on the rare occasion he had been forced to keep in doors due to the weather, he had found her surprisingly good company- even if a little dour.

Miss Mary was awkward and quiet in nature, and her words had an artless frankness that could easily offend. But once drawn out, she was a deep thinker of sound principles and simple logic, and Darcy could easily see that with just a little time and patience, the right person could help her to shine. She reminded him in some ways of Cousin Anne- so repressed by those around her that any true beauty that may exist beneath was shrouded to the extent of being almost unrecognizable. Darcy hoped that someone would help Miss Mary shine before her repressed nature became such an ingrained habit that it killed all trace of the spirit beneath, as it already had so long ago in Cousin Anne.

Darcy shivered and banished the thought from his mind. It was too early, and the morning too lovely to give in to such melancholy thoughts.

The elder two sisters were definitely the most likely candidates for the tracks, as both enjoyed walking out of doors.

Miss Jane, seemed to deeply enjoy the gardens, and if the family did not employ a gardener it was little wonder, as the flowerbeds were tended expertly by the tender hand of the ethereal beauty.

It was taking Darcy some time to adjust to way things were done in this family. In his eyes, it was completely improper for a lady of breeding to do manual labour. He had never before seen a well-bred woman lift her hand to any work beyond that of painting or needlework, or in some cases the odd bit of mending.

But here at Longbourn, it was not uncommon to see the elder two sisters pitch in to help with the running of the household. At first he had been shocked to find that Miss Jane sorted the menus and ordered the meat in her mother's place, and even more shocked when he found that she took an active role in the planting and keeping of the ornamental gardens. But he soon began to understand that as it was a small county estate with few servants, there would be many differences to his own household.

Still- nothing could have prepared him for the culture shock that was Miss Elizabeth Bennet!

It had been Sunday afternoon- his second full day at Longbourn, when he had had his first battle of wills with the beautiful young woman.

As it was a Sunday, the staff had been on generally lighter duties than normal. Following church, the household staff had mostly gone off their own ways to spend the day with family or friends. Thus it was quite a surprise when Darcy came across old Bernard wheeling a pile of horse dung out of the stables. The old man looked tired and drawn, and Darcy immediately frowned, wondering why he had been doing the boy's chores well before they were due.

Taking the handcart from the old man he gently scolded him.

"Bernard! It's your day off is it not? Why are you doing this? Surely Stephen will be in later to see to the horses!"

"Aye, aye indeed Sir. I wasn'a muckin' the stalls out, just helpin' the Miss Sir."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I was helpin' the Miss Sir." Bernard repeated. "She says it helps the potatoes grow or some such. I was jus' helpin' her fetch the stuff. Don't much like her muckin' about the stalls in her pretty dresses, neither do the horses if ya askin' me!"

Darcy was still none the wiser as to his meaning, but followed the old man obligingly to the vegetable patch that stretched out beyond the garden wall.

There he was met by a sight that sent him flying through a range of emotions starting at shock and finishing with anger, though precisely at whom he wasn't entirely sure.

There, stood between two long rows of dirt, was Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She wore a long brown dress with a dirt besmirched white apron across the front. She had rolled her sleeves up to almost the elbows, and wore an oversized pair of men's work gloves. Her hair was still gathered in the soft bun she had worn to church, but now had tied a scarf about it in a pointless effort to restrain the gently curling locks that drifted down about her face and neck. To one side of her was a pail of foul smelling liquid that appeared to have chook droppings in it, whilst to her other side she had a tray of tiny potatoes that had begun to sprout.

Darcy stood in cold shock as he watched a Gentleman's daughter heave shovel after shovel of dirt into place, before dropping to her knees and creating a small well in the dirt and burying a seed potato along with some of the foul smelling liquid, and covering it up again before moving on to the next.

Finally processing what he was seeing, Darcy's voice was cold and hard as he bit out his words, the old man scurrying away from the mounting scene.

"What do you think you are doing?"

Miss Elizabeth looked up in surprise at his tone, before noticing the cart in his hands and breaking out in a wide smile.

"Oh, thank-you so very much" she laughed, wiping her gloves free of dirt before rising from her knees and walking across to stand before the cart. "It makes the potatoes grow so much bigger and tastier too. I get twice the crop, even if it does smell awful!" She laughed, picking up a piece and crushing it slightly in her glove before placing it back into the cart.

"Miss Elizabeth- this is horse dung!" Darcy bit out coldly, trying to reign in his temper.

She gave him a strange look, before responding. "Yes, well it's hardly rose petals is it? If you wouldn't mind dropping them over by that pile there I'll dig them in before planting out that row."

Darcy would never forget that sight, her dress muddied, and a slight smell of animal faeces permeating her she should have been revolting. But as the early summer sun streamed through the trees it caught in her hair, glistening in rich dark shades of mahogany, contrasting against the paleness of her alabaster skin that was now flushed with a rosy glow, and damp from a light perspiration. Her brow was arched, and her chin lifted in a silent challenge to the hostility he was exuding. It was a picture of everything a well bred young Gentlewoman should never be- but he had never seen anything in all his life more beautiful. In his mind, all he could think about was reaching out to wipe the dirt smudge off her nose, and then perhaps kissing that challenge off those pert lips. He had no idea where the thought had come from, and he was confused and frustrated at the sudden power of the urge.

In his frustration and shock, his anger got the better of him. Putting the cart down he strode across to where she stood and angrily grabbed her hands, tearing the gloves off of them. There beneath, her hands were red and swollen, though the skin was still soft and creamy.

His eye's met hers in a white rage, he neither knew where the intensity of his anger came from, nor how to control it.

"You are a Gentlewoman- not a common house servant! I ask you again- what do you think you are doing?"

Suddenly the fire in her eye's matched that in his own. "I am sowing potatoes, not that it's any of your business 'Mr Smith'! In case you have not noticed this estate has few hands, not nearly enough for all the work required. Perhaps where you are from, a woman sits and embroiders all day, but here some of us must do meaningful work in order to put food on your plate! If it so offends you, Sir, than perhaps you should just go!"

Darcy had never been spoken to by a woman like that in his entire life- but then, he had never spoken to a woman as he had just spoken to her before either.

Shame flooded him as he realized that he had just spoken to a gentlewoman so, and more than that- a gentlewoman who had extended him such generosity. He was not unaware of the reality that much of his anger stemmed from his own shame at the unexpected attraction he was feeling toward her, and therefore in directing it at her it was badly misdirected.

It was the most outstanding statement yet of where the estate affairs stood that a lady should have to tend the vegetable patch, and her stinging remarks about the contrast between his world and her own hit closer to home than he imagined she had intended.

He was suddenly appalled to find that he gave little genuine thought to where his food came from, and although he could not stem his sudden bad temper, he could at least control it now that most of it was directed inwards.

Returning her gloves to her, he rolled up his own shirtsleeves, and without saying a word, he wheeled the cart across to the second mound of dirt, tipped it equally along the line, and began to dig it in.

They worked in silence together for some hours, before she finally stood wearily from the ground. Slipping the gloves from her hands, she wiped the moisture from her forehead with her forearm, before placing her delicate hand on his own arm, stilling his movements.

As he raised his eyes to hers, her hand searing an imprint of awareness onto his arm, he had no idea what she saw displayed on his face. He had worked most of his anger away, but his confusion over his reaction to her was still strong. Whatever it was she saw, it made her pull away from him sharply, before dipping her eyes and saying,

"We should go in and wash before dinner. Just because we have planted potatoes doesn't mean we should smell like it." Her nose wrinkled slightly as she considered her own smell, and Darcy smiled slightly at the absurdity of the comment, as he watched her turn and walk back to the house.

That night at dinner she had worn a pale pink dress, and smelt of rosewater. Her conversation was of poetry and classical literature. She was in every way, the elegant, beautiful lady of his previous acquaintance.

So why was it that whenever he met her eye's he saw not the refined and proper young lady, but rather sun drenched, rebellious wisps of hair and fiery eyes?

Dragging his mind back to the present, Darcy took note of the direction in which the silvery trail led. It could only be one of the elder sisters, and Darcy felt sure that he knew which one it would be. Indeed, only Miss Elizabeth displayed the independence displayed by such an early morning walk. Without realizing he was doing so, he found himself following the trail.

Since that day in the garden, they had barely spoken together. Their previously easy commeraderie had vanished, leaving in it's wake a tension that filled the air around them.

Darcy felt a longing to re-establish the relationship that had been blooming between them, and feel once more the lightness of spirit that she seemed to bring him whenever her smile lit upon him. If a small part of him warned of the danger in such a strong desire, it was quickly smothered out.

Darcy followed the trail along the edge of the field to an old wooden stile, across the fence and along a slight cutting in the trees. Not far in, the trees began to thin out and a gentle glade appeared. The stream from earlier meandered through the grass and small clusters of wildflowers dotted the ground. A flowering vine dripped from the branches of several of the tree's, lending the area a storybook appearance, whilst the early morning sun had just begun to stream down in great shafts of eerie light. Several large smooth semi-submerged boulders edged the brook, and there, sat on one with her knees pulled up to her chest and her head tipped back to collect the sun's rays, was Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

Feeling as though he were intruding on some secret sanctuary, Darcy turned to leave.

"It's beautiful, isn't it Mr Smith?'' Her light voice rang out, stopping him in his tracks.

He turned and found her eyes were now on him, and she seemed to be trying to make him out as though he were some sort of puzzle. Darcy supposed that in her eyes that is exactly what he was, but in the short time he had been at Longbourn, Darcy had begun to feel less like a puzzle than ever before in his life. 'Mr Smith' seeming so much more himself than 'Mr Darcy' ever had been.

''Indeed, Miss. I have never seen anything quite like it." Darcy looked around the glade in awe before finally resting his eye's once more on her "Absolutely stunning."

Miss Elizabeth lifted from her perch and gently strolled over to where he stood.

"I come here every morning to watch the sun rise, either here or just through those trees there is a hill that looks over the entire area."She said pointing to the other side of the glade where the cutting continued through the trees. "The sun lights up the countryside like a patchwork quilt and you can see right the way to Merryton. You can spy Lucas lodge and even the edge of the Netherfield Estate from there."

"Netherfield?"Darcy asked, not sure if he had heard that name before.

"Yes, it is the most beautiful house in the county, or so I think anyhow. Not that anyone lives there anymore, it has been up for lease these past three years. It was Miss Marshall's inheritance, but she married a gentleman from London before her father died, and since his death the place has been closed up. They are always either in London or on the continent I believe, something or other to do with the war, so they have no need of a country estate."

"Miss Marshall did you say?" Darcy enquired.

"Yes, did you know her?"

"Not personally, no. But she married the Duke of Richmond, did she not?"

"Yes, yes she did. I believe they have a right brood now!"

Darcy nodded absently. The Duke and his wife did have quite the brood... quite the noisy brood. He remembered being introduced to the Duke just this past winter by his dear friend Charles Bingley.

Those two got along fabulously, and it was much easier to see why they were friends than Bingley and himself, the Duke being almost as eager to please as Bingley, which was no mean feat.

Darcy had taken a turn with Charles in the park when they had come upon the Duke quite by chance. Apparently he had temporarily escaped his brood and was congratulating himself on his good fortune. This did not last for long however, as soon two young boy's came barrelling out of the bushes at him, followed soon after by a beautiful young lady who was trying to console a crying infant, a little girl, and a flustered looking nanny who was barely restraining another two boy's.

The little girl had taken a tumble, and as the Duke and Bingley were each busy with one of the elder twins, and the nanny had the younger twins, a bewildered Darcy had been handed a tiny parcel of ruffles and lace while the mother saw to the wee girl's grazed knee.

Darcy remembered how awkward he had felt holding the crying infant, until he had recalled when Georgiana was tiny and how he had oft crept into her room late at night when the nanny could not settle her, and there was no mother to hold her close. Though only young himself, Darcy had learned to rock her and shush her, till she would accept no other than he.

Soon the tiny infant lay silent in his arms, her sleeping face the picture of innocence, one tiny fist curled around his finger. The look on the mothers face had been that of outright shock.

"Darcy man! We have been trying to settle that child for hours!" The Duke had laughed.

"Hush Henry, I have been up with her since before the birds arose, if you wake her..." The Duchess had warned her husband "Honestly Mr Darcy, wherever did you learn to settle a baby?"

Darcy had blushed at the Duchess, few of the gentry knew of the true extent of his Father's mourning, so he would need to abbreviate his answer.

"I was ten when my mother died giving my sister life, I became very close to her as a mere babe."

"I see. Well, I cannot say how greatly I appreciate it, Mr Darcy. She is bringing through her first tooth and she suffers terribly."

"If I might suggest, an amber necklace might bring her relief. My Sister, Georgiana suffered very badly also, an elderly tenant recommended amber, and it brought her much relief."

After the Duchess assuring him she would try it, they had parted ways, Darcy carefully placing the sleeping child in its mother's arms.

Several days later, a note of appreciation had arrived from the Duchess.

Darcy was returned to the present by the gentle laughter of his companion. He tipped his head in question.

"You say you do not know her, yet the look on your face! There is a story there to be sure!"

Darcy smiled

"A fleeting acquaintance I fear, that is all. Her husband is a good friend of a very dear friend of my own. I settled her youngest once, she had her hands quite full at the time."

"Ah, now I see, for I do not imagine you to be one for infants." Miss Elizabeth smirked.

"To the contrary, Miss Elizabeth. I have been intimately involved in raising my sister since her birth."

Miss Elizabeth raised her eyebrows at this, but pressed him no further. After several moment's, during which they had both started back towards the house she asked.

"Did your letter get away all right?"

"Indeed, thank-you. Your Father was so kind as to send it by express."

"I am curious, would not the letter itself betray your location?"

"Normally, yes. However I sent the missive to the doctor in a nearby town as he see's my sister frequently and can therefore get it to her. I can also trust him to contact me should the need arise."

Miss Elizabeth nodded, and allowed silence to fall once more. Once they reached the stile, Darcy crossed first then offered her his hand, which she accepted and he helped her across. At the last moment however, when she went to remove her gloved hand from his, he tightened his fingers on her own. Miss Elizabeth looked up at him sharply as he struggled for words.

"I,... I'm sorry."

"I'm afraid I do not understand." She frowned extricating her hand from his, yet still standing close enough that she had to tilt her head back to see his eyes.

"The garden. I'm sorry. I,..." Darcy took a deep breath to try and sort his thoughts into words. "I should not have spoken to you thus."

"Thank-you, Mr Smith. And for what it counts I should not have been so sharp with you either. For all that you may pose as a Steward, you are still a gentleman."

Darcy smiled ruefully, and fell back into step beside her "When I remember to behave like one. I must confess you were right, in my world Lady's embroider, sing, paint tables- they don't sow potatoes."He laughed.

Miss Elizabeth blushed heavily. "Our worlds are not so dissimilar, Mr Smith, except Papa has let the estate go so very far- I do not dare to think sometimes. After all, if Jane were to be seen doing something like that, well she would never find a good husband, no matter how pretty she may be. And then what would become of us?"

Darcy laughed out loud before he noticed the seriousness behind her words.

"I have heard your mother speak as though the world hangs upon her marrying, but I assumed it was just a mothers right, to obsess over husbands and trousseau's?"

Miss Elizabeth's eye's held some emotion he could not quite decipher as they met his.

"Then Papa has not told you then? Never mind, you'll know soon enough. Goodness knows Mama has not been able to keep quiet about it since Mr Lucas left last. Jane and I try not to take it all too seriously, otherwise there is so little hope for happiness. But as Jane is the beauty and the eldest as well, I fear it is all put upon her shoulders. Though since Mr Lucas wed another, it has all become a little more serious I suppose. Still, we are yet young."

With that she smiled brightly at him, although there was a sadness that remained in her eye's to belie it.

They travelled the rest of the way to Longbourn in silence, Darcy trying his best to piece together the missing pieces of the puzzle before him.

Why should Jane's marrying well matter so dearly? They had Longbourn, not a vast fortune between five girls to be sure, but easily enough to marry well and provide for those that did not.

Perhaps it was on account of how badly the estate was running. If that was so, than Darcy was glad to know it would soon be turned around. Already he had made progress. He had seen the books, and although the estate was not making any great profit, it was not running at a loss, nor was it in debt.

Yet something still seemed amiss. Darcy knew the missing piece had something to do with Mr Lucas. Miss Bennet and Mr Lucas had been childhood sweethearts, yet he had married another. Why? Darcy thought back on what he had been told. Too little a dowry. But as the eldest, surely Longbourn would pass to her, and thereby her husband, would it not? For a country gentleman such as Mr Lucas, surely he had not expected more?

Darcy shook away such thoughts as he entered the dining room just as the family were taking their seats for breakfast. As usual, the clamour was deafening. But unlike most mornings, Darcy turned his ear to Mrs Bennet. Perhaps the answer was with her.

"...Oh how very exciting! It will be a wonderful opportunity! Jane dear, we must see about altering one of your dresses, you know the fashions in London are much lower this year. Indeed, I think an inch off the front of the blue will do nicely, and perhaps some new ribbons. We must have you looking your best if you are to catch yourself a fine husband. Oh and then we shall all be saved! Mary pass the bacon dear. Oh, and Mrs Lucas has invited us to dine with them tonight, you know it is only Charlotte at home now, and she can be such a bore!",

Elizabeth's protests could be heard in the background, but it was Mr Bennet's words that inspired the words that gave him some measure of an answer, as he opened a letter that had just arrived.

"Really my dear, you behave as though I shall expire this very day!"

"And what if you did Mr Bennet? You're hardly young, and your health is not so very good! Oh my poor nerves! We would all be tossed out on the street! My poor, poor girl's! Oh if only we had had a son!"

Darcy looked across at Miss Jane who had looked somewhat pale throughout this entire charade, which although it had replayed daily since his arrival, Darcy had never before given it great thought.

Now however, he understood. Miss Jane did not stand to inherit Longbourn. As such, upon Mr Bennets death, each girl was dependant solely upon whatever dowry the estate could afford. Darcy knew the books well- there was very little to be had.

All that stood between the Bennet family after Mr Bennets demise and poverty, was whatever good fortune could be gained through matrimony.

Suddenly so much made sense, and Darcy was more determined than ever to turn the estate around. He recalled the look he had not been able to decipher in Miss Elizabeth's eyes, and understood.

He was brought out of his reverie by Mrs Bennet inquiring what was in the letter Mr Bennet had received.

Mr Bennet passed the missive to his wife. She read for a second before gasping.

"What is it Mama?" Asked Elizabeth as her mother became red-faced with excitement.

"Netherfield is let at last!"


	8. Chapter 8

_**I would like to apologize for my lack of updates recently. Please do not think I have forgotten this story! Things with my niece have been coming to a head over the last month or so, and I am not coping too well emotionally. I'm one of those people that grieves well after the event, but right now I am just feeling so very hollow in a family so full of pain. I write best by letting myself FEEL the story, so while my emotions are closing themselves off without my consent, it is almost impossible to not allow it to affect my writing.**_

_**So updates may be sparse or spasmodic for a while. I'm very sorry!**_

_**Thanks to all for your responses! Your reviews mean the world to me! I'm trying this chapter to begin to bridge the 'William' 'Darcy'thing, so let me know if it gets confusing...I hope not! I want Darcy to relax into the 'William Smith' role, and I need him to mentally separate himself as Darcy, and as William, hard to achieve unless he starts seeing himself as William.**_

_**The only other thing I'd like to say is that I notice allot of reviewers are curious to see how this plays out as P&P from Darcy's viewpoint- but I would like to point out that this is not pride and prejudice! Whilst P&P's plot-line will continue around our characters, you will notice the story diverge more from the original as we progress. Also, this story is not intended to be written from Darcy's perspective, but will follow the perspective of the character we are dealing with at the time. (Primarily Darcy, Elizabeth, and Mr Bennet)**_

_**As key points of the story are different, so then also are the actions and reactions of those involved.**_

_**Well... thats my blab! Enjoy :)**_

**Çhapter 8**

It had been a rather stressful day for Darcy, following the arrival of that letter.

It turned out that Mr Bennet had stayed in touch off and on with the Duke of Richmond for some years, and as such the Duke had seen fit to inform Mr Bennet personally of the new tenant of Netherfield.

According to the letter, he had a very dear friend who just so happened to be interested in securing a country estate for himself. As he was a somewhat indecisive sort, the Duke had suggested that he let such an estate first in order to ensure that he would be suited to the life of a country gentleman.

This had been decided upon as a capital idea, and as it turned out that the Duke owned just such an unoccupied estate in Hertfordshire, it was agreed upon that the Duke should lease it to his friend for a minimum of one year, with the option of then either extending that lease or purchasing the estate should he desire to do so.

It was just Darcy's luck that this friend happened to also be his own dear friend, Charles Bingley!

Darcy's shock at this fact had thankfully been missed in the ensuing raucous that exploded between the females of the house.

Mrs Bennet loudly demanded that Mr Bennet introduce himself at the earliest possible moment in order to be in a position to introduce their daughters, from whom he would of course desire to choose one as a wife, most likely Jane.

Darcy had had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes at such a comment. Jane was undeniably pretty, even-tempered and sweet- of course Bingley would fall in love with her! But being Bingley, he would likely also fall in love with a half a dozen other pretty and amiable ladies in the district, it was quite simply what Bingley did.

The thought occurred to Darcy, that between Bingley's propensity to fall easily in and out of love and the obsessive match-making of Mrs Bennet, (who at this very moment was threatening yet more of the fabric on the front of poor Miss Jane's favourite gowns!) Bingley had the disturbing potential to unwittingly injure Miss Jane's already fragile heart.

The younger girls were all aflutter at the prospect of his arriving with two sisters who would undoubtedly wear the latest fashions from London, and guessing wildly at just how handsome and rich the new gentleman was.

Miss Jane and Miss Elizabeth were both clearly excited by the prospect of new neighbours, and were eager to share the news with the Lucas's that evening, who may have even more information on the gentleman's family than they.

It seemed generally hoped by all that they would arrive in time to attend the dance to be held in Meryton in a fortnight's time. At this the subject returned, much to the lady's discomfit, to the subject of shaving as much fabric as possible off the front of Miss Bennet's gowns.

Darcy felt for Miss Bennet on account of having prior knowledge of the impending ladies and their fashions. Mrs Hurst was married already, and therefore substantially more tolerable, though she still lacked any true modesty. Charles younger sister however, lacked any sort of modesty whatsoever, and was perpetually making efforts to make herself stand out. As a result, her gowns had the lowest cuts by far to be seen on respectable women of the ton.

Miss Jane, who had a charmingly modest disposition, and whose natural beauty needed no great effort to stand out as it was, would indeed suffer if her mother attempted to model her after Miss Caroline Bingley!

But what of his own situation? Could he continue in his current position with Bingley and no doubt his obnoxious sisters living nearby?

He was little concerned as to seeing a great deal of Bingley's infernal sisters, as the Bennets were well beneath their perceived social status, and therefore it was most likely that they would snub any contact with such 'inferiors'.

Bingley himself on the other hand, would be his usual outgoing social self, and would no doubt desire to be well acquainted with all of his neighbours.

Darcy's appearance might be enough to slip by most people, with his less polished attire and his dark hair having been allowed to fall forward in a longer, less formal style than his father usually preferred on him, but such small changes would do nothing to hinder the recognition of such a close friend as Charles.

Then again, Darcy was currently little more than a servant, surely he could evade guests without arousing too much suspicion, couldn't he?

Darcy dragged a tired hand down his face. He had achieved so very little today, too lost in his own troubled ponderings to string two coherent thoughts together, much less perform any useful task. Having wandered thoughtlessly to the top of a grassy knoll, Darcy sat down heavily in the long grass.

It was as yet still early spring, and although the sun shone down warm and bright, the breeze still carried a bitter chill in the late afternoon. Darcy sat and allowed the peaceful scene before him to calm his troubled mind.

Several sheep grazed nearby, their lambs born just this week frolicking about between their legs. A pheasant guided it's young through the grass towards the woods, and somewhere off in the distance a flock of geese honked loudly between themselves. All around, the cool spring breeze caught in the tree's as the branches gently swayed and rustled as though dancing to some unheard melody.

Darcy closed his eyes and listened to the whisper of the trees, back and forth, back and forth, his chaotic emotions slowly ebbing away to leave the tired hollowness that always follows in the wake of such high emotion.

The grass nearby crunched under heavy footfalls as someone approached. Darcy looked up to find Mr Bennet gesturing to the grass beside him.

"Might I join you?"

Darcy indicated that the old man would be welcome, and he lowered himself awkwardly to the ground, where the two men sat in companionable silence for some time.

Finally, Mr Bennet seemed inclined to speak his mind.

"So, this Bingley fellow. Is he a pleasant enough sort?"

Darcy looked up in surprise at the old man, clearly his shock this morning had not gone so undetected as he had hoped.

"Ah, so it is as I thought then, you do know him." Mr Bennet observed, an amused smile playing about his lips.

"Charles Bingley is as good a man as you will find, Sir. Well mannered, good tempered, and genuine. He is truly the very best sort." Darcy replied earnestly.

Mr Bennet nodded thoughtfully, whilst searching Darcy's face.

"High praise indeed. Yet you are disturbed by his imminent arrival."

Mr Bennet's statement was phrased as more of a question, and Darcy took some time, plucking a blade of grass and worrying it between his fingers before responding.

"I met Charles when I was in University. My father insisted I receive 'proper' education despite my uneasiness around society I was not accustomed to. Charles father wanted to begin to breech the gap between himself, a man in trade, and the landed gentry. As such, he decided to give his son and heir the upbringing normally given to a gentleman's son.

Neither of our fathers could have foreseen the outcome. For my part, I became so withdrawn from the society about me I could scarce speak without stammering, and Charles, being as he was from trade in a school full of the heirs of the first circles, was beaten and teased mercilessly!

It wasn't long before the school dean decided we would be safe company for each other and began pairing us in most of our classes and activities. I helped him keep out of trouble, and achieve in his classes, and he helped me overcome my fear of society I am not acquainted with. He enabled me to hold my own in a room, even if it was still unpleasant.

By the time we graduated, we were closer than brothers, and we have remained so ever since. Ironically, it was I that first suggested his leasing a property before purchasing one. I had not thought him to be in any great hurry however, as he had desired my assistance in the venture, and I had sworn to give it. I suppose that will not be possible now."

"Then your concern is on account of being unable to fulfil your promise?" Mr Bennet asked sceptically, more to draw William out than because he felt it a likely answer.

"No, no not exactly. I am concerned what would happen should I be recognized. It could cause a scandal for my family, though Bingley himself would never be party to any such thing on purpose, I must consider the risk.

Bingley's sisters are shallow and self-centred beings- I find it hard to believe that either of them could describe the like of a servant or worker after having been around them a month, let alone a chance encounter. In any case, it is likely I could avoid such a scenario easily enough, considering Longbourn is unlikely to be high on their list of priorities.

Bingley's brother-in-law, should he be in attendance, despite being an intelligent man, is... shall we say, disinterested. He does not take a great deal of notice of his surroundings, and even if he fancied himself to recognize me, he has enough good sense and motives to keep such to himself. He certainly would not share such information with his pernicious wife and her sister."

"That bad eh?" Mr Bennet chuckled.

Darcy smiled a wearily amused grin in the old mans direction, before asking

"Are there any single men of substantial wealth and influence in the area?"

Mr Bennet cast William an amused glance before responding,

"You mean besides yourself, I am assuming. Well then, no. Mr Lucas was the closest thing to that, though despite having title, he could hardly be called wealthy I fear. But as you know, he has married now."

Darcy coloured slightly at the reference to himself, but continued without acknowledging it.

"In that case, I have no doubt you shall be treated to the absolute highest level of Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst's distain and censure. They both suffer acutely from a desire to be stationed higher than they indeed are. They have been tagging in on high society for years, trying to secure the best possible match. Mrs Hurst is not as bad as her sister, she settled for a wealthy gentleman farmer, but he spends a great deal of his time at leisure in town.

Miss Caroline on the other hand, is determined to land herself into the peerage. She will go to any length to catch such a husband, and anything hindering her quest is abhorrent to her. Sadly she involves her sister in this, as her sister although not of a bad disposition generally, craves any sort of amusement, seeing as she gets very little in her indolent husbands company."

"I presume you have suffered Miss Bingley's attentions yourself, then." Mr Bennet laughed.

Darcy made a face of utter distaste.

"Indeed, despite Bingley and I having established long ago that I could most certainly never consider his sister a suitable match, it does little to hinder her. It is easier, however, to handle her in town as she can easily be distracted by other prospects."

William and Mr Bennet laughed for a time good-naturedly, before Mr Bennet casually enquired,

"Then you are a peer?"

Darcy looked at him in surprise, before realising what his own words had suggested.

"No, no not myself. My family however are largely of the peerage, and therefore a similar status is transferred upon me. A union between us would allow Miss Bingley access to the upper echelons of society she so badly craves."

"I see, I see. Then it is safe to assume she is not your intended then?" Mr Bennet probed.

"No! No, thankfully not. I fear my family would suffer apoplexy were I to marry someone from trade. No, upon my marriage I too will be of the peerage myself." Darcy responded, melancholy cloaking his features. "Still, I suppose it could be worse. At least she is not repulsive in the manner of Miss Bingley. We are at least friends I suppose."

Mr Bennet nodded sagely, he had not expected William to open up so much, or so soon. Since the young man's arrival, they had quickly formed a sort of bond, sharing a drink after dinner each night in his library together, and with it, a part of themselves.

But William had kept his cards close to his chest as to his own personal details, and Edward had respected that, knowing that he would share when he was ready if he needed to.

"Friendship is a good start, you know. You can be friends without being in love, but you cannot truly be in love without being friends."

They sat in silence for some time, before Mr Bennet decided that if he wanted William to open up and share with him, he may need to do the same. He let out a heavy sigh before continuing.

"I was assigned an arranged marriage once, you know."

Darcy looked up at the old man in surprise, but the old man's eyes were on the horizon, lost in memories of times long since gone. Darcy had been certain that Mrs Bennet had been a love match, as he had seen no evidence of her coming from either money or connections.

"Mrs Bennet? I had assumed you married for love." Darcy enquired his surprise evident in his voice, and drawing a wistful chuckle from his partner.

"No, not Bethany, my cousin. Though I do not think you could rightly call Mrs Bennet and I a love match either, at least not then. But that was all so very long ago."

"You seem to care a great deal for each other." Darcy said softly, "Something I admire a great deal as you do not seem... an obvious match, at first glance."

Mr Bennet smiled a soft smile of remembrance, the smile of a man caught up in the memories of a lifetime.

"No. I suppose we don't, do we. We never really were, I suppose. She was so very young and gay, full of laughter and sunshine, and I had already lived half my life at least. Old and stale, full of books and bugs and dust. I never knew just how much dust until I almost lost her sunshine."

"You almost lost her?" Darcy asked, caught up in the old man's story.

"So very nearly, and it was entirely my own fault. I was over forty years old then, and still as foolhardy as a man less than half that! That was the day I realised I loved her, really loved her. The day my foolishness cost us our first child." The old man said his voice rich with bitterness and regret.

Darcy tried to join the pieces of the story together, but they seemed fragmented, and made little sense. Assuming Mr Bennet somehow referred to Jane, and perhaps her lost inheritance, he quietly muttered

"Miss Jane..."

"No, not Jane, our son. Our only son. I held him in my hand that day, he was so very tiny, smaller than my hand itself, but still such a perfect miracle. I named him William that day, and his name has never again passed my lips from that day until now."

Darcy looked at the old man that had taken him in as a son, and understood. As tears that had waited years to be shed made rivulets down wrinkled skin, Darcy saw a man that had made so many mistakes, and bore the weight of year's worth of regret, and knew that somehow, somewhere, in opening the door of his heart to help an unknown young man, he had sought absolution in return.

Darcy had no more idea of how to give an old man absolution, than he had of how to give himself peace of heart and mind, but somehow, he knew that the one could not now come without also the other.

Eventually, Mr Bennet rose from his place on the grass, and smiling sadly at William, he said,

"Well, that is a long story, and I have a dinner party I am ill-inclined to enjoy as it is. But no doubt my house is full of silly women anxious to leave so I shall have to be on my way. Why don't you give the fields a rest from your moping, and help yourself to a brandy in my library. Who knows, we might even get back in time for me to share one with you."

Darcy smiled, and nodded before watching the old man amble on stiff legs back toward the house


	9. Apology

Hi there all!

I know this isn't a chapter, but with all the concerned reviews as to whether this story has been abandoned, I just wanted to say that no- it has not!

My personal life has fallen completely apart over the past few months, and I'm not coping at all well. We lost my precious wee niece recently and it has shattered our family into a million painful shards.

Even though we knew she was a precious gift we might lose too soon, it still came as a horrific shock to each of us when she finally, and slowly, lost the battle.

My own children are taking allot to get through the trauma, with my eldest refusing for ages to eat or play, and my second going into a all out breakdown if I get sick as she is convinced I too will die and leave her,- which wouldn't be so bad except I can't sleep, so am continually sick!

There is just so much going on, and I am not in a place right now where I can find joy in pretty much anything. It will pass, I know, I'm just waiting, and praying for God to fulfil his promise at Revelation 21:3,4 -"...And he will wipe out every tear from their eyes, and death will be no more, neither will mourning nor outcry nor pain be anymore. The former things have passed away."

I have tried to write the next chapter over and over, but as I want the next chapter to begin a lighter phase in the story, it is just too light for where I'm at.

I'm very sorry for the delay, but I will return as soon as I am able.

Thanks to all for your interest and kind words.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Thank-you to all for your caring words, I have been inundated with kind messages from you all, and I really appreciate it. Amazing how many people have gone through similar experiences. I think her death will shadow our lives for a very long time, but it does not set the colour for every day as it did a few short months ago. (P.S.- TripandFall- I quoted the New World translation.)**_

_**Okay- so the going has slowed a tad, and I think I will have to accept that new chapters on this may get a bit further spaced than I would like, but I am still plodding away. Next chapter I think we skip ahead to the ball, and Mr. Bingley! But first- I felt this chapter was really needed, so I hope you enjoy. Sorry it's so long, but this chapter refused to be chopped in two! **_

_**As for those who have questioned the legalities of this premise- on both sides- I have spent a very painful amount of time discovering I have a very flimsy grasp on regency law! I have altered aspects of Mr Bennet's history to hopefully assist with the entail issue, although this has required re-writing some of his backstory, so we may have to wait awhile longer to hear more of his tale, which I had hoped to do this chapter. As for Darcy's side, I hope that this chapter explains why the threat of Georgiana's nuptials was so compelling. As both Estates would be settled upon the marriage, it achieves a version of the same goal- to keep the Darcy and Fitzwilliam Lines in control of both estates, and the power thier combined social standing offers. In Darcy's marriage he marries his mothers sister's daughter, in Georgiana's marriage she marries her mothers brothers son. Same connections, just inheritance issues that would be conferred for the desired end. (Anne would be left unwed.) **_

_**For those who still have issue with this- I am genuinely sorry- all I can say is that there are very valid reasons I am not a published author! I write for pleasure, but not well enough for anything more!**_

Lucas lodge had been in the Lucas family for many generations, and had seen little change over that time. In the way of old family houses, the once fashionable manicured gardens had spread and reshaped, the faded red brick walls now partially covered by curtains of creeping ivy. Yet in all the essential ways, the house remained more or less as it had for hundreds of years.

The Tudor style home was only a little larger than Longbourn, but its heavily dated decor with dark exposed beams, loud colours, and busy tapestries made it feel much smaller. Heavy velvet drapes fell across the windows, blocking out much of the natural light, and the air was heavy with the scent of burning candles, and smoke from the ever present log fire.

Yet despite the oppressive decor, Lucas Lodge had a warm loving atmosphere, and had always felt like a second home to Elizabeth. Many of her fondest childhood memories had taken place within these old walls and gardens, and had been shared with its bright and endearing occupants.

Sir William Lucas had always seemed strangely suited to Lucas Lodge in Lizzy's opinion, his character loud and busy, and slightly larger than life. The gentleman was short and rotund, with thinning hair, and dated attire, yet he always held himself tall, proud as he was of his title, well aware he was the only titled gentleman in the county. Yet despite all his bluster, he was never the sort of man to esteem himself above others, or look down on another purely due to title, wealth, or rank.

Sir Lucas held a hereditary baronetcy which would in turn be passed down to his son, one of the few remaining symbols of the families more wealthy history. Sir Lucas's ancestor had received, or more accurately- bought the baronetcy from King James I for his support of the Irish pacification, and although the wealth had disappeared over the two successive generations, the house and title remained, and with it, a great sense of pride.

Lady Lucas was much alike Lizzy's own mother, and as such the two were ever locked in a battle to best the other, be it in the size of the roast lamb shanks served, or the quality of the lace adorning their collar. Beneath that simmering rivalry however, the two were kindred souls, and the very best of friends. Most days you could find them either sharing the latest gossip or the new recipe for some dainty or other, but on the days they were not together, you would scarce hear either speak without some reference to the other.

Thus it had been the source of great concern to the members of both families, when Mr Alex Lucas had broken off his pursuit of Jane and married another. After all, if ever anything could sever true friendship, it was a slight against a most beloved child.

Despite this event however, the two had managed to survive the episode. Lady Lucas had expressed sincere regrets. Having always looked forward to welcoming Jane as her daughter, it had come as much a shock to her as any. Though a mother's protective nature must and will take precedence, it had gone some way toward healing the breech.

On account of this recent event therefore, and the feelings it inspired in each, the evening had been a cause for trepidation on both sides.

Yet despite all this, the scene in the dining hall of Lucas Lodge that night was much alike that of any that had passed before. Lydia, Kitty, and Miss Maria Lucas giggled and tittered together endlessly, whilst Mrs Bennet and Lady Lucas delighted together over the acquisition of some delightful lace through a local seamstress. Jane, Lizzy herself, and Miss Charlotte Lucas talked between themselves, and all the while Sir Lucas booming voice good-naturedly called over it all to her Father.

As for her father, he appeared to be the only one acting a little off. Lizzy had noted on the ride over that he had been unusually quiet, not even allowing himself to be baited into some sarcastic comment on the absurdity of his younger daughters.

Now he sat silent, seemingly far away, helping himself much more than was his custom to his hosts wine. It was unusual for Mr Bennet to drink more than one glass at a meal, but already Lizzy had counted three, and already his cheeks held an uncommonly rosy hue.

Elizabeth had seen her father return from his walk not long before they had left for Lucas Lodge, and had noticed then that something was amiss, but he had merely smiled in his way, and fondly patted her arm when asked.

It worried her that affairs with the estate might be worse than she had thought, but she did not ask, at least not directly. Mr Bennet had always confided much in his second daughter that would not normally be considered a woman's concerns, and as a result she knew much of the estates financial position. But Mr Bennet still had his pride, and would not tolerate a woman directly enquiring into his financial affairs.

As far as Lizzy knew, the estate was beginning to turn around under Mr Smiths diligent care, but her father had talked to her much less of such matters since Mr Smiths arrival. Much about her father had changed since his arrival, but not in any way particular enough that she could put her finger on it. It was for the most part, she would say however, for the better.

Every night after dinner, the two men would ensconce themselves in the library, talking about a mixture of business and literature, and whenever they emerged once more Mr Bennet seemed to exude an air of peace about him that Elizabeth had rarely seen.

Elizabeth shrugged off her father's strange behaviour, and attempted to focus once more on the conversation around her. So far, the conversation was polite and general, having not seen each other since the wedding, there was an abundance of inconsequential subjects to discuss.

"Oh Charlotte, you'll be amazed when you visit Longbourn, it is quite changed! You remember the bulbs we planted in the front garden? They have all broken into bloom just very recently, and a swell of spring flowers besides. Mama has enough for a fresh poesy in every room each day."Jane enthused sweetly.

"Indeed Jane, there is now not a single room for dear Mary to escape to where she will not suffer a flurry of sneezes!" Laughed Elizabeth, rejoining the conversation and earning a delicate blush from her sister in the process.

"Indeed, there are some very lovely gardens about this year. I believe George Tippen mentioned that he has a fine showing even at his farm, where nobody has tended the gardens in years." Said Charlotte "Although I presume it would be largely bulbs, as I believe it was his Mother who last took an interest, and she has been passed these six years now."

Elizabeth looked up surprised, had it really been six years already? Mrs Tippen had been a sweet women, and Elizabeth, Jane and Charlotte had spent many happy hours at her house, playing with the Tippen children, George, Amelia and Carry. She had seen very little of the Tippen children since their mothers passing, besides the odd community dance, or from afar at a Sunday service. It had to be said that this was not to be wholly unexpected, as the Tippen's were simple country farmers, but none-the-less Elizabeth felt a twinge of guilt that it had been so long.

"How are the Tippen's, Charlotte? I was not aware you kept in touch with them. It has been an age since I saw them last!"Elizabeth exclaimed.

"Well, yes, we do catch up in passing from time to time."Charlotte replied, a delicate blush suffusing her cheeks. "Had you heard Amelia has been married? Just this past winter, to a naval officer. A good man by all accounts, I hear. Though she is still quite young."

"Little Amelia? Why no, I had no idea! Such a sweet creature, I confess I have not spoken to her in years, she was still just a child the last I saw her." Elizabeth commented, wondering slightly at Charlottes blush.

"It seems like just yesterday, does it not, when we were all playing together?" Smiled Jane "Elizabeth constantly getting her petticoats dirty chasing after Amelia and Carry, while you and George tried so very hard to keep us all in line, never letting us forget for one moment how much more grown-up you both were!"

"Well we were seven years older than you Jane, nine years older than Elizabeth, and twelve and fourteen years respectively older than Amelia and Carry. You must admit we were hardly of an age to cavort in the mud!" Laughed Charlotte in response.

"So what has become of George- that is, Mr Tippen? And Carry too, she must be quite grown by now." Jane enquired, placing her utensils down on her empty plate.

"Mr Tippen has done quite well since his mothers passing actually, he bought some adjoining land and has extended the farm rather sizably I hear. As for Carry, she is still a mischievous sort, terribly sweet though, so very much like her mother I suppose. She has just turned thirteen recently."

It was at this point, that Sir Lucas stood and in his booming voice asked Mr Bennet to join him for a drink in his study, leaving the ladies to make their way into the sitting room to await the gentleman's return.

The younger girls at once rushed to the far side of the room in a rush of giggles, whilst Lady Lucas and Mrs Bennet shared a small couch discussing the latest fashions in London.

"To be sure, Mrs Bennet, dear Jane will look simply splendid no matter what she wears, that young lady is far too pretty to be anything else." Lady Lucas loudly enthused from across the room, drawing a deep blush from Jane, and capturing the attention of the rest of the room.

"Oh indeed, Lady Lucas, but as you know, there will be a certain young gentleman in attendance from London, and we want to be sure Jane makes her very best impression, don't we Jane?" Mrs Bennet responded, yet further embarrassing her daughter.

Indeed, the subject of this 'certain young gentleman' had been discussed at great length already tonight, Mrs Bennet scarce being able to remain quiet on the subject long enough to be introduced by the footman upon entering the house. Since that time, it had been no sooner decided that upon his arrival in the neighbourhood Sir Lucas would at once call on him and invite him to the ball, than it was decided that he would marry Jane. The poor gentleman's opinion on this, decidedly unrequired it seemed!

"Well, I'm sure Mrs Lucas would be happy to offer her advice, she certainly thinks very highly of her fancy London ways." Sniffed Lady Lucas, a hint of bitterness in her tone.

Jane's hand grasped Lizzy's firmly, as her face drained of all colour. Somehow the thought of how Jane might feel about such a situation seemed to have been completely missed by her mother.

"Mama, surely we need not bother Mrs Lucas for something so trivial, especially so soon after her marriage, why, she will only be returned from her wedding trip this coming week." Lizzy objected tactfully.

"What nonsense Lizzy! But of course we must secure her advice, how else are we to make sure that Jane can compete with the London society? Not that she isn't lovelier by far, I am certain of it, but he will not be accustomed to our country fashions, Lizzy."

"Indeed you are right, Mrs Bennet," Charlotte interjected, "But it does seem that Mr Bingly has chosen to seek a quiet country life over the attractions of London, perhaps it may be that our country styles may be more suited to his tastes also."

Lizzy watched with amusement as her mother wavered slightly in her opinion, before adding a final comment to dissuade her from such a course.

"Besides, I hear that Mrs Lucas will have none of her gowns made in Meryton, as she claims the local seamstresses work is so inferior to the seamstresses in the city, is that not so, Charlotte?" Lizzy asked, turning a mischievous glance toward Charlotte.

"Indeed, Lizzy." Charlotte replied, smiling at her friend as she saw what Lizzy was doing.

"Inferior?" Mrs Bennet cried, almost upturning her teacup in her distress, "Inferior! Why I'll have her know that Mrs Durrant has made dresses for some of the finest ladies in court! Why, such impertinence, I never! Meryton has some of the finest tradespeople in all England! We will see Mrs Durrant on the morrow, I'm sure she will be perfectly able to create a dress perfectly suited to a fine country lady! Easily as stylish as those dreadful London concoctions, if I might say so! Come over here Jane, so that we can discuss what shade would best bring out your eyes."

Jane smiled serenely at Lizzy and Charlotte, whispering "Thank-you" before going over to sit with Mrs Bennet and Lady Lucas.

Charlotte shifted closer to her friend so as not to be overheard.

"That was very clever, Lizzy."

"Well, you can always rely on Mama's loyalty to the local merchants can't you?" Lizzy laughed.

"Really though, Lizzy, how is Jane doing? With regards to Alex wedding, I mean?" Charlotte enquired, genuine concern lighting her eyes.

Lizzy sighed heavily, "I hardly know, Charlotte. She hides her true feelings behind such a mask of serenity that I scarce know. I suppose it is natural to feel quite heartbroken, he was after all her first love, and to be so jilted..." Lizzy drifted into silence shaking her head hopelessly.

"I do hope you know just how ashamed we all are Lizzy- I had no idea he had it in him to do that to Jane."

"Do you know why? Obviously her dowry was insufficient, but I did not think his love would be so easily dissuaded!" Lizzy questioned tears of anger and hurt glittering in her eyes.

"Love, I think, had little to do with it. I fear it was entirely an issue of money. Alex was broken hearted when he had to abandon Jane, I do not think the reality of his situation had sunk in until then. You see, Alex stands to inherit the estate and the title, but there is very little money to go with it. While Alex was away, he racked up a fair bit of debt, more than the estate could afford to cover. I think he hoped that in marrying Jane, he could get the wife he wanted, along with sufficient moneys to repay his immediate debts, but when he learnt that Jane's dowry was less than a thousand pounds, he quickly realised he would never be able to afford her. Alex swore he would never love again. He went to London to secure wealth, not love, and I fear he shall suffer greatly for his mistake."

Charlottes face was clouded with misgivings, and Elizabeth felt her heart go out to the young man who had been a childhood friend. To be sure, she would never forgive his treatment of Jane, but to know that it had pained him so greatly as to react with such uncharacteristic irrationality only made things worse, not better. Jane, in time, would have the option of moving on and finding someone deserving of her delicate heart, but Alex was stuck forever with a wife he did not love.

"Is it truly that bad, Charlotte? Can he not come to love her in time?" Lizzy asked, placing a comforting hand on her friends.

"Oh Lizzy! I do not know how we shall manage! Her money has bought us out of ruin and she will not let us go a day without reminding us! She is reasonably polite to Father, as he has the title she so badly desires, but we are very well aware that our existence is an inconvenience! I do not know how many times I can take being reminded what a burden I am to the family, does she think I do not realise? Does she really think I would not gladly accept any man who saw fit to offer for me! Dearest Lizzy, I do not know what I am to do!"

"Charlotte Lucas! Do not say such a thing! You are a wonderful person, and you deserve a wonderful husband! You are worthy of being loved beyond sense, and I will not see you settle for less!"

"Oh Lizzy, you are so very young still. You do not know what is to be left on the shelf, but I do. Lizzy I am seven and twenty with nothing to recommend myself, I have neither beauty nor wit, and I cannot bear to be a burden upon my family. Indeed, were any man with sufficient income to live in reasonable comfort to offer for me I would be overjoyed. We cannot all afford to be romantics, Lizzy."

Elizabeth felt her jaw drop in horror that Charlotte could esteem herself so little, but not wanting to offend her friend, she opted for a change in topic instead.

"Well then, we must see about your wardrobe then Charlotte. According to Mama, all that is required to secure a husband is a scandalously low cut bust line!"

They giggled together, glad for the return to more neutral ground.

By the time Mr Bennet and Sir Lucas finally left the sanctuary of Sir Lucas's Study, the younger ladies were entertaining themselves with a game of cards, whilst Miss Mary played- rather dreadfully- at the pianoforte, and the older ladies dozed peacefully in their seats.

Mr Bennet, himself feeling rather tired thanks to the unusual amount of alcohol he had imbibed, swiftly brought the evening to a close, and hustled his family out to the carriage, for the short journey home.

After handing the horses off to Stephen to stable, the Bennets quietly made their way into the house and toward their respective rooms, even the younger girls now suffering fatigue.

Elizabeth observed with curiosity, as her father walked toward his Library, placed his hand on the doorknob as if to turn it, but then, thinking better of it, turned to wearily ascend the staircase instead. Standing in the hallway just a little longer, Lizzy noticed the faintest glow emanating from under the door, and allowing her curious nature to get the better of her, opened the door to peer inside.

The sight that met her eyes brought a soft smile to her face. There, sat in her father's armchair just in front of the dying embers of a fire, sat Mr Smith. A half drunk glass of Brandy sat on the mahogany table beside him, his normally immaculate presentation rumpled as he had slid down in slumber. His necktie was loosened, his hair ruffled about his face, and his shirtsleeves rolled up. A large book of Shakespeare teetered dangerously close to falling off his lap, whilst his arms were crossed tightly over his chest in a subconscious effort to ward of the chill that the dying fire had left.

Elizabeth silently crept over to her father's desk, and pulled out the soft woollen blanket she knew was kept hidden underneath, she crept over, and after gently removing the book from his lap and placing it beside his drink, she carefully placed the blanket over his sleeping form, taking care not to disturb him.

Leaving the Library door ajar, she quietly wandered into the kitchen and pilfered several of Cook's log's from beside the fireplace, before returning, and after stoking the remaining embers, placing them on the fire.

Sitting back on her feet for a moment, she warmed herself before the growing flames, almost forgetting she was not truly alone in the room. Almost that is, before a slightly sleepy voice quietly broke into her reverie.

"You did not need to do that. Thankyou."

Recovering swiftly from the surprise, she turned to find his tired eye's softly watching her. His face was unusually open and unguarded, and she felt her cheeks warm slightly as he gazed at her fondly.

"It was nothing," She returned, copying his hushed tones "You would be surprised how frequently I find my father in just such an attitude."

Mr Smith smiled softly, a silent laugh evident in his eye's if not voiced. For several moments he simply smiled softly at her in such a manner that made her begin to fidget, until he finally spoke.

"How was your evening?"

"Quite pleasant, thank-you. It was nice to spend time with Charlotte again, I have missed her dreadfully! But I think things will slowly return to normal now, or as close as is possible considering."

"And the new Mrs Lucas? Is she a pleasant sort?" Darcy enquired.

"No, no, they do not return from their wedding trip until later this week. Otherwise it would have been rather awkward I think. So I cannot say, although nobody seems very fond of her it would appear." Replied Elizabeth, her thoughts returning to her conversation with Charlotte, and a delicate frown forming on her face.

Darcy watched her for several moments, her brows drawn together, a troubled and pensive look on her face while her fingers agitatedly fidgeted with the muslin of her gown.

"Something bothers you." He stated an enquiring look etched on his face, leaving it up to her whether or not to share.

For some time, Elizabeth stared intently at her hands, still kneeling before the fire, unresponsive. At last, she lifted from the mat and took a seat in the armchair opposite. Mr Smith simply waited silently, a look of such genuine concern on his face, yet not pushing her to divulge more than she was comfortable with.

"The new Mrs Lucas is making life very difficult for everyone at Lucas Lodge. She brought a great deal of money to the match and is making Charlotte feel an imposition on account of her yet being unwed."

Darcy smiled inwardly at how deeply upset she was over a friends unhappiness, such selflessness was extremely uncommon in his usual circles, and he found himself extraordinarily proud to know her. But clearly this was not all that bothered her, so he gently spurred her on.

"Unfortunately, such often happens, though it is dreadfully unfair. After all, a woman can hardly secure her future for herself."

"I worry that Charlotte may do something rash, I have never heard her speak so defeatedly before."

Darcy frowned, unsure where this was going. Leaning forward in his chair, he asked,

"What did she say?"

"That she would gladly accept any man whatsoever who asked her hand. She spoke so lowly of herself, as though she had nothing what-so-ever to offer a husband. Charlotte is a wonderful person! She is caring and wise, and practical to a fault! Any man should be so fortunate to have such a wife!"

Colour had suffused her cheeks as she defended her dearest of friends, such intensity burning in her eyes as she leapt from her seat to pace before the fire, arms wrapped tightly around her bosom in agitation.

"I told her I would not allow her to speak so. But she simply said I was being romantic, that I did not know what it was to be left on the shelf." Lizzy turned confused eyes back to William as she whispered "She is utterly serious. She will accept any offer with no consideration to her own heart!"

Darcy watched, frowning, as she dropped her arms in defeat and softly returned to her seat, utter confusion etched across her face.

"She would sell herself, body heart and soul, simply to not risk burdening her family."

Darcy heard each word like a knife to his gut, the knowledge eating away at him that he was guilty of almost the self same thing.

"Is there someone in particular you are concerned will make her an offer?" Darcy asked.

"No. Not as far as I am aware. Nobody has ever shown a romantic interest in Charlotte, but it worries me that she places so low a value upon herself. To marry without affection,..."

Elizabeth trailed off here, and Darcy was left wondering what the end of that sentence would have been. He and Miss Bennet were forging a tentative sort of friendship, based largely on mutual respect, a rather impressive feat given that they both knew only too well that he was not who he appeared to be. He wondered if he would lose that respect if she knew of his engagement, or engagement to be. Darcy was surprised to find that the possibility disturbed him deeply.

Nevertheless, he felt obliged to defend Miss Lucas decision, even if he could not agree with it. Miss Lucas and Miss Elizabeth were long-standing friends of the closest kind, it seemed, and it would be sad to see a rift form between them over a mere difference of objectives.

Darcy well knew the strain such differences could place on a friendship, he and his cousin Richard had disagreed many times on a very similar subject. Yet he also knew how hard true friendships were to form, and had learnt the value of not allowing such disagreements to jeopardise them.

"You place a high value, then, on affection in a union?"He asked her.

"Of course. One does not need to look far in society to see the misery that engulfs a marriage where love is not present. In the better cases, they abide under the same roof, but lead separate lives as veritable strangers. In the worse cases, they bicker and fight incessantly, exposing their children to such unwholesome influence, and spreading their misery to them also, making them, and by extension their children also, a social embarrassment!

On the other hand, there are those who hold out for the one with whom they can share their mind and heart, and the love and happiness that surrounds them is a marvel to behold. They shine like a beacon in society of how God intended marriage to be for their entire lives!

I have seen it many times over, and have sworn with all my heart, nothing but the strongest and deepest of loves could ever induce me to marry. Mama practically despairs of me- she says I will never marry, and perhaps she is right, but I would sooner become a spinster than sell myself like some sort of animal at an auction.

I understand that she does not wish to be a burden to her family, but there are other options, which she has not even considered. She has merely placed her price on head, and will give herself freely to whomsoever will pay!"

Darcy stood abruptly and walked across to the mantle, her words cutting like sharp knives. Indeed, he shared her feelings, his own parent's marriage had been a match of great love, and he had dreamed for years of returning that blissful happiness that had been cut short too quickly to the halls of Pemberley.

He had envisioned many a time sharing summer picnics by the lake, little children playing on the sprawling lawns while he kissed his wife in the grass, ecstasy written across both their faces. He remembered days something like that from his own childhood, in the period before his mother had passed. Memories he had scarce allowed himself to bring to mind since.

Bracing himself on the mantle over the fire, Darcy closed his eyes and tried to envisage such a future with Anne. The laughter of small children disappeared, for their union would never bear fruit. The bright summer sun gone also, replaced by a set of chairs in the conservatory. Anne's delicate health rarely allowed her such pleasures as a walk outdoors, much less a picnic in the grass. The passionate embrace of familiar lovers, an impossible dream. For all that Darcy could imagine enjoying Anne's companionship, the mere idea of kissing her as a man would his wife, sent a shiver of revulsion through his frame.

Darcy let out a shuddering sigh, before saying in quiet defeat,

"We all have our price Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth realized with sudden clarity that they were no longer speaking of Charlotte Lucas, and sat in silence, unsure what to say in response. It was not long before he opened his eyes and turned the glittering blue orbs to her. The pain and regret that filled them took her breath away.

"In a little under a year, I am to announce my own engagement to my cousin."

Elizabeth and William stared deeply into each other's eyes for several moments, tension filling the space between them. Unsure what to say in light of such a revelation, Elizabeth simply offered a tentative reply.

"Congratulations."

Irritation flickered briefly across Williams face, clearly she did not perceive his point.

"My marriage is motivated by the deepest, and most abiding of loves," William stated, pausing to ensure he had her complete attention. "But not the love of my future bride."

Elizabeth's face clouded over in confusion, "Then why?" she asked, her face the picture of innocence.

William felt his mouth twist into a gruesome mockery of a smile.

"The love of one's family can be a powerful motivating factor." William said bitterly, pushing himself off the mantle and lowering himself once more into his chair, this time with slumped shoulders and lifeless eyes.

"My sister is yet very young, Miss Elizabeth. Young, innocent, and perfect in every way. She was scarce born when our mother passed, and my father has blamed her, in action if not verbally, ever since. She is like a delicate flower straining for sunlight, she gives everything of herself for his pleasure, and it is never enough. She cannot know that her long golden hair makes her the image of our mother, or that her love of music mirrors Mothers own. She spends hours and hours practising on the piano and harp, thinking that it will please him, but when he hears her play it only brings back bitter remembrances. He does not speak to her if he can avoid it, and cannot bear to hear her so much as laugh, he has not held her in his arms since the day of her birth."

Elizabeth's hand covered her mouth in horror as she listened to him speak, a clouded distant look to his eyes the singular hint of the emotion roiling beneath.

William barely acknowledged her, continuing his tale, unsure why he was so desperate for her to understand, so desperate to share this piece of himself with her. He turned his eyes from the fire and fixed them on her own with quiet intensity. His voice lost its bitter, hard edge, and softened to a more tender, awed tone.

"From the first day I held her, I knew she was mine. She was mine, and I hers. The only things we could truly claim in this entire world. Mine to love, mine to protect. I cherished her every smile, every laugh, every memory. I was there when she took her first steps, my name was her very first word. I would give anything for her happiness, my very life should she ever ask it."

"Your marriage will give you this." Elizabeth realized aloud, her heart wrenching at his tale.

"Father has long desired a union between myself and my cousin, despite my efforts to avoid it. It is a matter of property and wealth, but even more so of family honour and position. I have long resisted him, but he has finally used my greatest weakness against me. If I do not consent to the match, he will marry my precious sister, though but a child, to my cousin.

My cousin is not a bad man, far from it, but he is much older and as a military man he is very worldly-wise. He is greatly fond of his gambling and his wine,... and his women. He cares for my sister, and I know he would not mean to hurt her. But he would destroy her. The delicate light in her eyes that struggles to shine even now would die, and, I fear, I with it.

My aunt would bequeath her estate to him, she is free to, although they would lose the title. My father would leave his estate to my sister, and disinherit me, and though not what they wanted, they would at least keep the money and social standing they care so much about.

As for the cost? The precious innocent child that would be sacrificed to make it happen? They would not spare her happiness a second thought. Father would simply be glad not to have to set eyes upon her each day."

"So you will marry a woman you do not love, for the happiness of one you do." Elizabeth breathed, silent tears trailing down her face.

William said nothing for a moment, tracing the path of one silvery tear as it made its silent trek from her lashes to her jaw line, placing upon that single tear, shed out of sorrow for him by one who scarce even knew him, the burden of all the tears he himself could not shed.

Glancing back up to her stricken eyes, William sat forward in his seat, and balancing carefully on its edge, he reached out thoughtlessly to touch the fingertips of the hand that lay in her lap. His voice soft but resolute as he spoke once more.

"Do not be too hard on your friend, Miss Elizabeth, we each have our price, and must pay dearly for that which we care about. At some point, we all become jaded by innocence lost, for some it comes earlier than others, and for some the taste is more bitter than for others, but at some point, it is the price we all must pay. It is upon each of us to find a way to accept our fate, and make the best of that with which we are left. If Miss Lucas can reconcile herself to hers so easily, than rejoice for her, for she is a better person than I."

With that William stood, his fingers sliding from Elizabeth's even as his eyes did the same, and turning, he walked toward the door. Just as he reached it however, Elizabeth's soft voice made him pause momentarily.

"That is why you are here, isn't it?" She asked, barely registering the tears that now streamed uninhibited down her cheeks. "To reconcile yourself."

William smiled at her sadly, before turning the knob and leaving the room without a word.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Hi guys- here we go :) Another long wait- I know- but I'm finding time to be a rare commodity just now! My garden overflows and I have Jams, pickles, freezing and preserves aplenty to soak up every free moment I can spare. Add to that my so called 'lazy' baby just found his legs with a bang! Now he is into everything and no cot, gate, nor high-chair can hold him down! My 2yr old has made 3 visits to ED this month alone for his shenanigans- I do not think the 1yr old will be much better!**_

_**Anyway- I had hoped to cover much of the ball here, but after much thought, decided this way was cleaner. The ball involves so much it could become the never ending chapter! **__**Sorry to those who liked the green gown in the 2005 film, but I hated it! Thus my abuse of it in this chapter. The dark green made Elizabeth look gaunt and drawn to me.**_

_**Thank-you for your reviews-please keep them coming- good bad or otherwise its great to know how the readers feel. Thank-you! **_

_**Hopefully the next chapter won't take so long! Just one thing I'd like address first however- there are allot of reviewers concerned this will be a sad story with a sad ending, but that is not entirely true. I admit that my own low spirit has infused the chapters so far, thus why it is getting slower to update, as I want to pull away from that, however I assure you all this story has plenty of ups and downs to come. I am giving each character their own personal trials and tragedies, because it is usually the low points in our life and how we deal with them that makes us grow up. There is a point in most lives where hardships demand that we abandon our childish innocence and take responsibility. It is that point where we get a chance to prove our metal. Some hide away in immaturity, others allow themselves to become bitter, but most of us find an inner strength we never knew we could possess, and in looking back can identify that as the day we grew up. And usually all it takes is making a decision that is bigger than ourselves alone. Such turning points can come several times in a lifetime, and this story will see several key characters find theirs. But ultimately- these turning points make us better people. Especially for our Darcy and Elizabeth, they will see everything they think they know challenged, but will emerge stronger for it. We are still fairly early in the story- so please- bear with me! Remember that especially Darcy is younger in this story, and has not yet found the security within himself the original had, thus why he is more easily manipulated. (Hope that made sense!)**_

**_Chapter 11_**

The weeks leading up to the Meryton Assembly were a pleasant blur of activity for all those involved.

The Assembly was a community gathering, held toward the beginning of each summer, to celebrate the working relationship held between the local classes. It was a much loved and anticipated tradition in the small town, where the barriers between the social classes were all but irradicated. Prominent families and individuals from every class associated for one night as equals.

If only for one night, a farmhand could dance with a gentleman's daughter, with no slight on either side.

It was a concept that Darcy had had great difficulty in accepting. He had been raised to place great value on the etiquette of social structure, and saw the -albeit temporary- dissolution of that structure as a threat to social harmony.

But, as Mr Bennet had pointed out, he had been raised among a vastly different society. The advantages of a large and wealthy estate are manifold, not least of all- its large household. In the event of an unexpectedly severe winter, any disasters can be largely, if not completely, handled by the estates own staff.

In a less affluent community however, made up of smaller, less wealthy estates, the very opposite was the case. When a gentleman's culvert collapsed mid-winter, threatening to flood field after field, it was the local farmers and tenant's he relied upon for assistance. When a farmers wintering barn blew over in a blizzard, it was not uncommon to see Gentlefolk and common, both working side-by-side to save the stock and salvage what remains.

After all, the misfortune of one member of the community, be he great or small, often affected the entire community, sometimes even resulting in calamity for another. There existed, therefore, an unspoken co-dependence that cared little for neither rank nor wealth.

In most communities, even in Meryton in years gone by, this interdependency would pass by unacknowledged, ignored lest it offend the pride of either party.

And so it would have been in Meryton also, but for the dismal tragedy that almost befell a certain Mr Marshall of Netherfield. When his daughter of only 3 years was lost in a snow-storm one winter, it was only on account of the combined efforts of every able-bodied man in town that she was recovered alive.

That following Spring, Mr Mashall hosted the first Meryton Community Assembly, where every man woman and child were invited as equals to celebrate the close-knit community that transcended the distinctions between the classes in times of need.

Darcy could not deny the concept was enchanting, but still, it flew in the face of what he considered to represent propriety. At Pemberly, every year they would hold a fete for the staff and community, but although the gentlefolk made an appearance, they remained apart, and retired early, well in advance of any rowdy behaviour. A benevolent gesture intended to promote appreciation, not a combined event to suggest equality.

The topic was debated at length between William and Mr Bennet, over numerous successive evenings, and although neither conceded entirely to the others point of view, each did acknowledge the merit in the others perspective. Indeed, Darcy even came away reconsidering the value of remaining largely cool and aloof from the community at large.

As it was a community gathering, it was traditionally hosted by the premier family in the county, which duty, in the removal of the Marshall family, fell to the Lucas's.

Of course, with the loving rivalry that existed between Mrs Bennet and Lady Lucas, it was generally agreed between Sir Lucas and Mr Bennet that a division of responsibilities was in order, which was also convenient on account of both households having only a small contingent of servants.

There was a constant back and forth therefore, between Lucas Lodge and Longbourn over the ensuing weeks, as the ladies threw themselves devotedly into such tasks as decorations and menus, and the staff of the two households worked hard to pull the event together.

William found himself enjoying the challenge set before him as his workload increased sizably. With the household staff often engaged with additional duties due to the preparations, it became difficult to juggle the various activities whilst not allowing the estates affairs to slide. Yet despite this fact, William was pleased to note that the estates productivity continued to increase, albeit less markedly than usual.

William and Elizabeth had taken to sharing, at least in part, their morning walks together, and if there was any awkwardness as a result of the revelations made during their late night discussion, neither mentioned it.

There was little time in Williams schedule at present to allow for much socialization, so these morning walks became something he found himself looking forward to as soon as he awoke. The topics of discussion varied greatly, and he learned as much of Elizabeth's childhood as he did of gardening and local history.

In fact, the more time he spent in her company, the more he came to admire her wide array of interests along with her proficiency in them.

In general, women of Darcy's acquaintance were shallow and vapid creatures, who could scarce carry a discussion in literature, much less engage in a debate over the merits of one great author over another.

Yet, as Elizabeth relaxed into Williams company, he found she was not one to agree with his own opinion merely in the interests of being genial, but rather would argue her point with such fire and passion, he often found himself doubting the strength of his own convictions.

Whilst Miss Elizabeth held a certain innocence about her, borne of youth and lack of worldly experience, she also possessed a surprising degree of maturity, and discernment regarding the human character, that he could only put down to the combination of her varied reading material and the influence of her father. Indeed, her character strongly reflected the doting nature of Mr Bennet's influence on his favourite child.

It was during one such morning walk, that William made the acquaintance of Miss Charlotte Lucas. Miss Elizabeth was regaling him with a tale from her childhood, involving a pond, a tree, a wedding, and a very wet dress, when they encountered a somewhat unremarkable although pleasant looking woman walking towards them.

Elizabeth's face at once lit up as she called out to her friend.

"Charlotte! Whatever are you doing here so early?!"

"Elizabeth, it is so very good to see you also." The young lady laughed brightly. "I thought I might be so fortunate as to encounter you out here at such an hour, and as there is so very much to do today, what with the assembly being only tomorrow, I longed for the company."

"Well, it is always good to see you Charlotte! May I introduce Mr Smith, Fathers new steward. You will recall I told you about him? Mr Smith, might I introduce Miss Lucas, of Lucas Lodge, my dearest friend."

William and Charlotte smiled at each other as they made the appropriate acknowledgments, before William broke into a mischievous grin.

"It is such a pleasure to make your acquaintance Miss Lucas, I must confess I feel as though I know you already! In fact, just at this very moment as you happened upon us, Miss Elizabeth was sharing with me a tale from your shared history."

Charlotte looked suspiciously at her friend, whilst Elizabeth tried futilely to mask a giggle behind her hand.

"I believe you found yourself somewhat saturated whilst at the service of a friend?" William smiled as her face showed recognition of the suggested events by scowling lightheartedly at her friend.

"Yes, well, it was I daresay, a much more amusing anecdote when told from the perspective of the girl in the tree rather than her friend who wound up in the pond, and at the Vicar's wedding no less! Although, the look on your poor mothers face, Elizabeth!"

The two ladies gave way to giggling for some time before Miss Lucas addressed William once more.

"I must confess, I feel as though I am already acquainted with you also Mr Smith, so much do I hear from my own dear father with regard to the improvement's you have already instituted at Longbourn. My father is much in your awe Sir, and endeavors to inspire such diligence in my brother, Mr Lucas, also."

"I am flattered your father approves of my efforts Miss." William replied, shifting awkwardly at such praise.

"No need to be quite so flattered I fear Sir, my father is as fond of his Brandy as Mr Bennet is of his Library. But how are you enjoying your stay in Hertfordshire? I understand you are related to Mrs Bennet."

"I am enjoying my stay greatly Miss Lucas, it is a pleasant change in both scenery and society." William replied, ignoring her later comment.

"I assume you did not have five younger sisters at home then Mr Smith?" Charlotte laughed.

"No indeed, I do not believe there is much that can prepare you for that pleasure!" William Laughed.

"So will you be attending the Assembly tomorrow Mr Smith?" Charlotte enquired, already seeing why the Bennets had become so very fond of this young man.

"I am afraid not Miss Lucas, there is much work to be done here and with the additional duties of late, I am afraid I have fallen a little behind"

"Surely Papa would not begrudge you one night, Sir, especially not after your hard work this past week!" Miss Elizabeth interjected heatedly.

"No, of course not. But as you know, Miss Elizabeth, I am not inclined toward mixed company in any case, so feel that my time can be better used here."

"Do you dance then, Mr Smith?" Inquired Charlotte.

"Not if I can avoid it, no." William replied without explanation, and Elizabeth's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Then perhaps you are well not to be attendance after all, otherwise you should find yourself obligated to dance at least one set with each of the five Bennet sisters alone." Miss Lucas smiled "Still, you will miss out on the entertainment, that is a pity, I dare say it shall be quite the spectacle!"

Williams brows knit together in confusion, "Spectacle, Miss?"

But before he could receive an answer, Miss Elizabeth's hand had flown to her mouth as she cried in delight, eyes glittering with mischief, "You've met them! When? What are they like? Is he dreadfully pompous? Oh! And what of his sisters? Oh come Charlotte! You must tell me! You will not leave me in suspense!"

"I would not dream of it Elizabeth," laughed Charlotte with a demure smile, "But first you would have to let me speak!"

"Yes, of course, sorry. Only you know how there has been no other topic for weeks on end!" Replied Miss Elizabeth, looking suitably chastened.

By now, of course, William had realized exactly who, and what, they were referring to. Bingley, and the scramble to secure his affections. William masked his inner groan, and chose instead to focus on Miss Elizabeth's excitement at new acquaintance's.

"Indeed, Lizzy, and I dare say it is set only to get worse. Papa say's he has five thousand a year! Although his father was a merchant, they are now firmly out of trade, and he seems utterly set on purchasing an Estate in the country as his father had intended before he passed away. He is a very amiable fellow, Lizzy, not pompous at all!"

"And his Sisters? What of them?" Enquired Lizzy.

Charlotte's face drew pensive for a moment, as though unsure how to phrase her next comments.

"I am not entirely sure what to make of them, to be honest Lizzy. I think you had best form your own opinion. I can say that my new sister-in-law seems to like them very much, especially the younger, Miss Caroline Bingley. The elder sister, Mrs Louisa Hurst, is as you know married, and they reside normally in London. I understand that they do not intend to stay long in the country."

"They do not like the country then?" Asked Elizabeth, as though she could hardly imagine anybody preferring the town.

"No, neither of the sisters are very fond of the country lifestyle, they prefer the plentiful diversions available in town I believe."

"Oh, i see. But Mr Bingley seeks a quiet country life. How extraordinary for his character to be so far removed from his sisters!" Elizabeth observed, bending to pluck some wildflowers, and gathering them into a posey.

"Indeed, other than their looks, in which they can scarce be mistaken, they appear to have very little in common! Even their manner is so very dissimilar!"

"Well, he shall meet his match tomorrow I think! I do not think I can recall the last time the Mama's had such an eligible bachelor to throw their daughters at! Though I do wish our Mama would back off just a little, for Janes sake."

"How is Jane coping Lizzy? She seems to be the very picture of a dutiful daughter, but sometimes I worry that she is being just a little too acquiescent."

Charlottes voice was laced with the concern that had been bothering Elizabeth also for some time, and William was interested to see how she responded.

He had known for some weeks now, that her sisters quiet acceptance of their mothers scheming had been worrying Miss Elizabeth sorely, but since their discussion about duty and marriage in Mr Bennets Study, the topic had been mutually off limits, with neither desirous of broaching the subject.

After fretting for several minutes over how to reply, and her flowers receiving the brunt of her fidgeting fingers, Elizabeth threw the mangled posey to the ground, and let out a deep sigh.

"I cannot say to be sure! She is not fully recovered from being jilted yet, that I know. Yet she claims not to be affected anymore by his loss. She has said that she does not know that they were ever truly in love at all, but that it only hurts so on account of his being her first love.

I do know that she suffers terribly from the shame of it all. The poetry he wrote her has disappeared from beneath her pillow, and I do believe she is mending, but she has lost her dreams of love and happiness. She seems content,... No, not content,... Resolved, rather, to accept whomsoever Mother says she must wed. She will play along in pursuit of this Bingley fellow just as Mama desires, for all our sakes, but she holds no expectation of overly liking him, much less loving him, which as you know Charlotte, just is not our Jane!"

Charlotte listened to all this quietly, before nodding quietly and responding with no less concern than before evident in her face and voice.

"No indeed, Lizzy. While Jane has never suffered from your extreme idealism, neither does she share my pragmaticism. She scarcely hopes to fall desperately in love once for all time, but neither could she countenance a marriage of pure convenience either. She has always believed that where there is friendship and respect, love shall follow."

"Exactly, and Jane is so easily pleased, she could quite readily love based on a mere few happy traits alone, and be forevermore happy in the doing! But now,... Well she hasn't shown one ounce of interest in any direction. She simply asks how Mama should prefer she wears her hair!"

Darcy was indeed troubled by this. Bingley was his very dearest of friends, and the thought of his becoming infatuated with the eldest Miss Bennet was one that had been occupying his thoughts allot lately. Miss Jane Bennet was beautiful, well-mannered, even-tempered, sweet and intelligent. She was modest, sincere, and displayed a good sense of decorum. Indeed, Bingley could scarce hope to find such a woman so well suited to him from among the ton.

...At first, Darcy's upper-class sensibilities had told him it was a bad match. The ladies personal attributes aside, she had little dowry, and her family would certainly not raise Bingley's social status. But then he had put his families voices behind him, and realized that if- as he suspected might happen- Bingley fell for Miss Bennet, and she for him, they would find in each other a match in personality that was rare to behold, and in turn, might discover a happiness that very few are ever blessed to find.

But Darcy would not, even for the Bennets, whom he had come to love dearly, stand by and watch his friend become ensnared for his fortune alone. No, Darcy prided himself on his unwavering loyalty to his family and friends, and he would not see his dear friend trapped in a marriage of convenience. No, or even unequal affection.

Darcy respected Miss Jane Bennet deeply, had even come to love her in a way as one would a sister, or perhaps the distant cousin he posed as. But such an attitude as that being ascribed to her by her own sister, who knew her far better than any, neither seemed in keeping with her person, nor could be permitted to cause pain to his very dearest of friends.

Darcy resolved to keep a close eye on events, and, if necessary, be prepared to intervene. It would certainly not be the first time he would have to separate Bingley from a woman whose greatest interest was in his pocketbook and not himself, though it would be the first time he would cause damage to one he cared for in the so-doing.

It was at this point, however, that Miss Lucas next words, intended to lighten the mood, caused him such surprise that he almost tripped over a fallen tree branch, by suggesting a thought that although obvious, had not even occurred to him.

"So Lizzy, have you decided what you shall be wearing to the assembly? After all, just because Jane is your mothers choice of bride for Mr Bingley does not mean he shall fall for her as ordered, perhaps his tastes are more in line with willful brunettes than placid blondes!"

Williams head jerked up suddenly, his eyes wide with surprise, before he could swiftly regain his composure. The idea ought to have occurred to him sooner, that each of the Bennet girls would naturally consider the new gentleman a potential suitor, even Miss Elizabeth, and would therefore naturally attempt to attract his attention.

William found himself astonished he had not thought of this sooner, and wondered at his own reaction to the information. He quickly assessed his feelings toward the woman beside him, and despite the fact that they had become quite close in some respects over the past several weeks, he could not find any reason to consider himself emotionally attached to her.

He admitted to himself that he admired her, her passionate and independent spirit, her intelligence and ready wit, her intense loyalty toward those she loved. Every day he met a new aspect of her personality that he admired.

He could also admit that he found her unexpectedly attractive. Miss Elizabeth's form was not what he would normally class a great beauty, with dark hair and brown eyes rather than the classical blonde locks and blue eyes, and a figure that was slight and almost angular, as yet lacking her sisters womanly curves. Yet despite this, for some reason he could not quite define, he had come to consider her one of, if not the, most handsome woman of all his acquaintance. Indeed, it had long since ceased to shock him, that when she turned her brilliant smile upon him, her eyes glittering with unadulterated mirth, she could render him utterly senseless!

But still, for all that he admired her, he was under no delusions of love. It was only natural, really, whilst his mind and heart fought and railed against his unappealing future marriage, that something within him would reach out for some sort of genuine human connection. To mistake his hearts cry of help for love, would be the the most insensible of mistakes that only a foolish man could make, and Fitzwilliam Darcy did not consider himself a fool.

Despite this however, he could not help but acknowledge that it disturbed him a great deal to think of the- albeit unlikely- chance that Bingley's interest could sway toward Miss Elizabeth instead of Miss Jane Bennet. He caught himself as he almost scowled at the idea of the man bumbling after her in his besotted ardor.

A man like Bingley could never make such a woman happy, he would completely miss her wit, and she would come to despise him as she had to limit herself in a multitude of small but suffocating ways.

No, when Miss Elizabeth found a husband, he would need to be well educated and open to debate and hearty repartee. The sort of man who enjoyed intelligent, meaningful conversation. Someone who enjoyed early mornings, good books, and long quiet walks in the country. Someone who had a healthy respect for propriety, but who could see the larger picture beyond society and its ridiculous expectations. Someone who could utterly adore her whilst at the same time maintaining a strong sense of himself beside her. A partner. An equal.

Bingley on the other hand, needed the exact opposite. A woman of beauty, but simplicity. A woman with a sweet, gentle, agreeable nature, who would not despise his silliness, but love him all the more for it. Someone who could quietly support him to be the best he could be, without ever overshadowing him, or managing him. Someone who would allow him to keep his simplistic view of the world, share his optimism, and treasure his naivety, whilst simultaneously keeping a level enough head to perceive the dangers of this world where he did not. A woman that could help him grow into the great man he one day would become, without forcing him to loose the those basic things that made him him. A woman exactly like Miss Jane Bennet.

It struck William rather suddenly, that he was quite possibly as much so, if not more so, protective of Miss Elizabeth Bennet as he was of Charles Bingley. A friendship forged over a few short weeks with a woman who knew scarcely anything of his true self, meant almost as much to him as that of a man who had known him more intimately than almost any other since adolescence.

Regaining his composure, William returned a neutral look to his face, and forced his disquieting thoughts to the back of his mind, though not before Charlotte observed the play of emotions across his face, and wondered at their meaning.

"Me! Good gracious no!" Miss Elizabeth laughed in reply, bringing William back to the present somewhat effectively. "Even if I had some sort interest in throwing myself at the poor man for no better reason than his fortune alone, and joining his sea of simpering, mindless admirers, than I would know better than to get in Mama's way so! No, I am under strict instruction to ensure my attire deflects attention away from myself and towards Jane, which I am more than happy to comply with! So I intend to wear the green gown Aunt Phillips gave me last year. That should do the job quite adequately!" Miss Elizabeth looked for all intents as though she could not be more delighted by this turn of events, and William soon found out why as Miss Lucas gasped in horror.

"The green! You can't! That dress is horrid on you! Even your mother cannot abide it! Surely the mid-blue muslin would suffice, Lizzy! You may not be desirous of Mr Bingley's hand, but there are many other local men at the ball, in that gown you shall scarce be asked to dance!"

Miss Elizabeth's tinkling laughter rang through the valley,

"Charlotte! It is not that terrible! A little dark and dowdy I'll admit, but if a man will not ask me to dance simply on account of my dress not being lovely enough, than I'm sure I wouldn't dance with him for anything! Besides, if that truly were to be the case than surely I would be within my rights to inform Uncle Phillips he must stand up every dance with me to make up for it, and you know he is always a most amusing partner."

Miss Lucas seemed ill amused by her friends antics, but let the subject drop none-the-less.

"Actually, Lizzy, there was a certain issue I had hoped to discuss with you before the assembly tomorrow, and seeing as how we are nearing Longbourn already, I think I should just come out with it, as I was really hoping you might be of assistance tomorrow."

Sensing the serious tone to her friends voice, Lizzy slowed her steps, and turned to her friend, Mr Smith all but forgotten, and left awkwardly wondering wether he ought not just continue on and allow them their privacy.

"Of course Charlotte, you know I would give you any assistance you require. What is it?"

"Lizzy, the assistance I request is not on my behalf, but that of another. Do you recall Miss Brummel?"

"Yes, of course, Mr Brummel's Daughter, quite shy but very sweet."

"Yes, the very same. She is very sweet, Lizzy, and indeed excessively shy. She is shy on account of her dreadful stutter, you know. With her stutter and her being so very plain, it has not been easy for her to form relationships with others. No Lizzy, don't look at me like that, I do not say it to be unkind, but rather to help you understand. You see, Miss Brummel has married, quietly just this past week. She is Mrs Tobias Warren now."

"Farmer Warren! She married Farmer Warren! But she can't have!" Elizabeth gasped in surprise.

"Why can she not have Lizzy?" Returned Charlotte, her features set in determination. "He is a perfectly good man, and you know he can provide for her adequately enough. His only fault is that of being common, which is hardly something he can control is it?"

"That is hardly a fault, it is only that she is a gentlewoman, she is related- if rather a little distantly- to royalty. Her father will be absolutely livid, and with Mr Warren being already so old, it seems a highly unusual love match. The entire community will shun her! She will be neither gentry nor commoner!"

"That is exactly why I have asked for your help Lizzy. It is not a love match, but rather an arrangement that suits the needs of all. Mr Warren has three small children from his last marriage, and cannot care for them himself. Mr Brummel, for all that he has good connections, has little fortune to speak of, and Miss Brummel had little to offer a potential suitor. She was plain, with little dowry, she has a speech impediment, and is now past her best child-bearing years. As Mr Warrens wife, she has a stable future, a kind husband, children she can consider her own, a home of her own and her independence.

She is very happy with her choice, and her father has given his consent. But society, even in such a small town, or perhaps especially because we are such a small town, will not accept her choice. Not without help.

Lizzy, you are well respected about town. You are known for your common sense and loved for being level-headed. People respect you. If you stand by her, publicly, they will follow your lead."

Elizabeth stood quietly for a moment processing what she had just been told. The marriage would be a local scandal, but it was neither wrong nor immoral. The gossips would talk, either way, nobody could save the poor woman that.

But then had those same gossips not talked for months now about Jane? Their gossip and lies had torn at the very fabric of Janes precious character, and threatened to destroy her innocence. But Jane had family and friends aplenty to help support her. How would she have coped had that support not been there? Miss Brummel- or Mrs Warren rather- was already of a much more delicate disposition, and could so easily be torn to shreds by those malicious women.

Indeed, it took very little thought in the end. Elizabeth was not sure she had the sway over local society that Charlotte implied, but she knew that whatever sway she did possess, she would happily utilize it in Miss Brummel's behalf.

"Of course, Charlotte. You know I could never spurn her for such a thing! I do not think my support will have as much importance as you say, but if all we achieve is making her enjoy her evening that little bit more than you know you can count on me."

Charlotte looked much more relieved than Elizabeth would have expected by her response, but she brushed it off, assuming that Charlotte and the new Mrs Warren must be much closer than she had at first thought.

"Thank-you Lizzy, you cannot know what this means to me! I know you will not approve, but,... Thank-you Lizzy!"

Lizzy laughed merrily, adding,

"Well it is just as well I lent my blue gown to kitty, after all, I shall not need it as nobody will want to dance with me in any case!"

"Perhaps you shall have to be coerced to attend, Mr Smith after all. Otherwise Lizzy may have to forfeit dancing for the evening altogether!"

William merely smiled quietly, as Miss Lucas bade Miss Elizabeth farewell, and began walking once more in the direction of Lucas Lodge.

William and Elizabeth walked in silence for a short while, before Miss Elizabeth at last enquired just as they returned into the Longbourn gardens,

"Tell me Mr Smith, why do you not enjoy dancing?"

"It is not dancing itself I find disagreeable. But rather the company of those with whom I am not well acquainted. I only have close acquaintance with a small handful of ladies, most of whom I am related to. Dancing with new, unattached ladies I find uncomfortable, made worse by the gossip and speculation that accompanies such an occupation."

"So were you to be a member of the Netherfield party, you would not ask me to dance then?" She asked playfully, and William knew she was asking for a small insight into his true character.

"Miss Elizabeth, were I to attend the assembly as I stand before you today, I should like to think that I would ask you and your sisters to dance as many sets with me as could be considered seemly. But I am ashamed to confess that were I to attend as the man I was born as,... Well,... Miss Elizabeth, I am not blessed with the happy manners that some of my associates are.

I would consider it more likely that I would attempt to hide. A difficult task in a room full of people admittedly, so I would retreat into myself until I felt less uncomfortable. In such an attitude I have been described in such terms as sulking, miserable, and disagreeable. As such an outlook limits the number of insincere acquaintance's I am forced to endure I have never seen the need to alter peoples perception of my character. Those who know me intimately know that such characteristics are not consistent with my true character."

"Well if that is how you behaved when I first met you, I daresay I would not desire to repeat the experience! But surely, such a manner cannot help you to gain new friendships, after all, you would have never have come to know our family under such circumstances, and yet you seem to tolerate us well enough!" Elizabeth countered.

"Indeed, I admit that it has before occurred to me that but for our unusual circumstances I would be very unlikely to enjoy the pleasure of your families intimacy. Perhaps when I inevitably return to my own society I shall have found adequate reason to alter my behaviour.": William replied sincerely.

Elizabeth glanced up at him in surprise.

"Can we truly have made such an impression on you Mr Smith, in so very short a time?"

"You cannot possibly know the effect you have had upon me, Miss Elizabeth." William replied, his eye's burning with an intensity that made Lizzy's cheeks flush, "Your entire family." He finished belatedly, realizing too late that his words had betrayed something he himself dared not consider.

Elizabeth sensed his embarrassment and redirected the conversation.

"None-the-less, I was counting on you to partner me for at least one set Mr Smith, and I shall not forgive this slight easily!" She teased.

William smiled, glad for the return to safer territory. "Well then, Miss Elizabeth, i must request you leave the last set open for me, that I might fulfill my obligation if only in spirit not person. Then, if ever I happen to encounter you in a ballroom once more, you may hold me to my owing set then."

"I shall not forget Mr Smith! Though I may be eighty years of age, and you scarcely able to stand, should I happen to spy you across the room I shall force you to repay your debt!"

They laughed heartily together, before entering the house and going their separate ways to prepare for the morning meal.


	12. Chapter 12

_** Okay,... yes I know it has been forever since this was updated! I am sorry! Life has been more than I'm coping with lately as I am severely anomic and very tired. Add to that my dads been in hospital 3 times in 2 weeks, and my sweet 3 yr old has managed to earn himself the title 'frequent flyer'at the emergency rooms (not as funny as it sounds in hindsight believe me! the kids a menace!)...**_

_**But! I have two chapters to make up for it...?! Please?... Stop throwing tomatoes?! :p**_

_**Thank-you to all the people who have reviewed, Favorited followed this story! I am really blown away by the response this has received considering its my first foray into writing in over ten years! Amazing boost of confidence! I hope you will enjoy :) **_

At last it was the day of the Assembly, and Longbourn was abuzz with activity.

Elizabeth herself had been up since before dawn, quietly helping Sarah ready the gowns and like for use. Elizabeth and Jane both assisted Sarah on such occasions because no matter how diligent the ladies maid was, she was still only one between six women.

Sarah had been hired as Mrs Bennets ladies maid, and therefore her first priority lay with the lady of the house, but Mrs Bennet rarely needed much assistance besides doing her hair and lacing, which allowed Sarah the necessary time to attend to the the younger ladies also.

Jane and Lizzy took turns doing each others hair most times, and generally laced each other as well, however the younger sisters, in particular Lydia and Kitty, tended to run poor Sarah ragged. It was scarcely uncommon to hear of a last minute gown change, Lydia screaming that her ribbons were the wrong color, or kitty complaining her laces were too tight.

Mary was for the most part a simple girl, easily prepared and rarely complaining. However she did tend to become somewhat morose and brooding before such events, and would often incite hysterics between the younger girls as she counseled them on modesty and disposition.

Sarah had an invaluable way of distracting Mary from her excitable sisters, and calming the personal insecurities that resulted in her strong distaste for social events.

On most occasions, Sarah would juggle all this quietly and efficiently, however the Merryton Assembly was an entirely unique occasion. Although the household staff did not attend the Assembly themselves, they were kept unusually busy carrying out the last minute preparations, so there was substantially less time than normal to carry out the normal household tasks.

It was on this account, that Jane and Elizabeth both had arisen early to assist Sarah and Cook. Whilst Elizabeth helped Sarah give the gowns a final check for marks or rips, ironed out ribbons and polished shoes, Jane was downstairs helping to ready the table for a simple breakfast so that Cook could return to finishing the dishes to be served that evening.

Elizabeth gave the soft blue gown she had lent to Kitty for the evening one final shake before returning it to its hanger on the front of the robe, and slipping a posey of Janes dried lavender inside. Smiling to herself, she added the delicate lemon colored ribbons she had secretly bought to compliment Kitty's eyes and laid them along the shoulder of the dress.

Kitty and Lydia had been at war over the soft blue ribbons for weeks now, and there had yet to be a peaceful resolution. Finally, Elizabeth had quietly taken Stephen aside, and placing a note and the last of her months allowance in his hand, sent him to the Milliners in town. When he returned, he had a parcel containing delicate lemon ribbons for Kitty, and deep pink ribbons for Lydia.

Elizabeth smiled as she admired both the girls outfits. Although Jane was undoubtedly the beauty of the family, Lydia was growing into a stunning young woman also, with delicate features, rich mahogany locks, ruby lips, and long dark lashes framing the most most captivating deep brown eyes, that sparkled with all the abundance of life she contained.

Kitty too was growing into her own, though she had a simpler look than Lydia, it was her simplicity and sweetness that Elizabeth felt gave her her own beauty. She had all the vivacity of her younger sister, but she also had an innocence about her that Lizzy treasured.

Kitty always vied with Lydia for attention, desperate not to be lost in Lydia's shadow, but Lizzy had always thought that if only Kitty would stop following Lydia so closely, she would shine easily as bright.

Mary's dress was a simple grey affair, and Lizzy sighed, quietly wondering if she should try harder to get her sister to wear lighter shades. Even a light grey could alter her appearance drastically. Lizzy slipped a simple sheer white collar around the neckline, and placed a pretty embroidered handkerchief alongside. Lizzy was not overly fond of embroidering, but had felt a need to give Mary something also, and knowing she would have little interest in ribbons, had embroidered a handkerchief finely instead. After all, with Mary's allergies it was certainly a practical gift.

Lizzy stretched her arms over her head, easing the tension in her muscles from polishing Mary's shoes, and wandered across to the window. Looking down into the courtyard, she watched as Stephen and Mr Smith swept soft brushes in long strokes over the horses now gleaming coats.

Lizzy wondered briefly if Mr Smith realized how much his appearance had changed since his arrival at Longbourn. His hair, which had been somewhat close cropped before, had grown, and flopped down in a soft fringe at the front. At this very moment, as the wind tousled it this way and that, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow, he almost reminded her of a little boy.

Other things had changed also, his skin had darkened slightly, turned an almost golden color by the sun that made the light blue of his eye's stand out in a most outstanding manner. His form had filled out somewhat too, most likely due to her mothers constantly pestering him to eat more at dinner, and Cook's insistence on showing her fondness for him in sweets and cakes which he was too well-mannered to refuse. Though still imposing in his height, he no longer had the lanky boyish build he had arrived with, but rather Lizzy noted with a blush, he had filled out with a wider chest, and strong well-muscled arms that peeked out from under his shirt.

But the most notable change, Lizzy mused, was his smile. When Lizzy had first met Mr Smith, his smile was polite, but almost forced. A pleasantry well rehearsed, that never matched his eyes. Now however, his smile was ready, an unconscious reaction to the joy he found in life, making his blue eyes sparkle and lighting his face with a radiance that Lizzy imagined could make any womans heart miss a beat. He had always had a refined, elegant sort of handsomeness, like most gentleman, but Lizzy could scarcely miss that he now had a beauty to him that shone brighter than any man she had ever met.

As she watched his strong, fluid strokes sweep across the horses girth, Lizzy pondered the aspects of him she had encountered so far.

Mr Smith was undeniably a gentleman, his polished manner and behaviour never failed to evidence this, and for the most part he used the rigid rules of propriety to his advantage, stopping anyone from seeing much deeper than the aspect he chose to present to them. But Lizzy had somehow managed, little by little, to chip away at his barriers and get him to open up to her.

The first time Lizzy had seen a true glimpse of his deeper character had been that heated day in the garden. There, she had caught sight of a fierce temper, as his sensibilities had been offended, but she had also seen how he had fought to reign it in and control it. Lizzy recalled standing there fully expecting him to refuse her logic and demand that she stop her activities, knowing as she did she would fight him tooth and nail, resulting in his no doubt storming off and despising her lack of ladylike manners.

But instead, he had thrown himself- and his temper- into working alongside her. Mr Smith had appeared at her side every Sunday afternoon since without a single word. He had apologized for speaking so harshly with her, but he would still not stand back and turn a blind eye to a lady performing such chores. He never interfered with her managing the gardens, but he deftly prevented her from performing the heavy labor, or handling the less pleasant substances.

To begin with Lizzy's ire had risen to meet his high handed tactics, but in time she had come to enjoy the silent hours working side-by-side with him. In those hours, Lizzy had realized another aspect of his character- he was easily as stubborn as she, but he was also reasonable, and willing to find a compromise to avoid conflict. He somehow managed to always allow her her dignity, whilst yet never backing down on his own principles.

On several occasions now, she had met his more vulnerable side, not least of all the night in her fathers study, but he seemed afraid to show that side of himself, almost as though if he bared his vulnerabilities, someone would tear out his heart and shred it beyond repair. Elizabeth wondered at what sort of life he truly led to be so afraid of showing anyone his heart, but then his family seemed to have little care for him, and he seemed genuinely afraid of society in general.

Indeed, although Lizzy had attempted to pressure him to attend the Assembly tonight many times, he seemed to have an almost desperation to not be forced into company. If his behaviour around their few acquaintances he had met was any indication, Lizzy very much doubted he would be enjoyable company in any case.

Although he generally tried to make agreeable conversation where needed, and appeared to fight the behaviour that was clearly an established habit, he had a tendency to take on a stiff, unwelcoming posture, and retreat into himself, showing little to no emotion.

It was clear to Lizzy, that Mr William Smith was not in the habit of letting his guard down around people. Perhaps this was the reason she enjoyed their morning walks so dearly. It was there, in the early light and among the stirrings of the day, that he let down his walls. It was on these walks that she had learned of his dry humor. Debated with him at length, and come to respect his intelligence and deep thinking nature. And it was on these walks, that she had begun to understand just how deeply principled he was. How his every thought and action, indeed every aspect of his nature was founded on a strong, unshakable set of principles.

In short, Lizzy had come to deeply respect and admire everything that made up his character. Mr Smith had become a deeply treasured friend. Lizzy felt safe with him, and had taken to confiding in him, knowing that whilst he would often challenge her views, and encourage her to try to widen her perspective, he would never judge her or deride her opinions and feelings.

There was still so much she did not understand about him, but she supposed he would always remain an enigma to her. After all, she did not truthfully even know his name.

Lizzy wondered briefly at the slight sting she felt whenever she considered his leaving, and what he would be returning to, but she buried any half-formed concern, telling herself she would miss his friendship, and that she would scarcely be any sort of friend herself if she did not feel sorrow for his fate.

Yet despite this, she could not staunch the blush, when Mr Smith, feeling her eyes upon him, raised his eyes up to the window at which she stood, and smiled his signature smile, all white teeth and sparkling blue eyes.

Realizing she had been caught staring at him, stood there in a loose, sweat dampened white shirt, rolled up to the elbows, and open at the collar, exposing a smattering of dark chest hair, Elizabeth felt her blush deepen and she hurried away from the window, turning just in time to miss Mr Smith's grin turn just a little smug.

Both of them turning away before they could notice Mr Bennet stood watching the interchange from the door to the stables, a mildly amused look upon his face.

Lizzy., recovering herself, hurried downstairs to see wether Jane could do with some help. Walking into the kitchen, Lizzy encountered Jane carrying a basket of bread.

"Lizzy, how are the gowns coming along?" Jane inquired, leading Lizzy through to the breakfast table and setting the basket down.

"Very well, everything is hung out ready for this evening. Have you seen Sarah? She left some time ago to wake Mama, but I don't see anyone else yet risen."

"Yes, Sarah came down a few minutes ago to request that I take some breakfast up to Mother in her room, as she has a slight headache this morning, and Sarah doesn't want her to strain herself. You know how Sarah frets over her so. I believe she has gone back upstairs to wake the girls now." Jane replied, setting a small tray with some lightly buttered bread and a small dish of raspberry jam.

"Yes, I do think Mama has over-exerted herself a little this past week. I'm sure this will be the finest Assembly in Merryton history! And if Mr Bingley does not choose you as his bride, I shall have to have a most strongly worded discussion with him for wasting our poor Mamas nerves!" Elizabeth laughed delightedly, growing serious only when a troubled look formed on her sisters face.

Lizzy reached out to still her sisters hands with her own before continuing.

"Really though Jane, you won't allow her to push you into anything will you? Mr Bingley can have all the wealth in England, if you don't like him it is for nothing! Promise me you will not allow her to make you uncomfortable?"

Jane smiled a small but genuine smile at her most beloved sisters devotion.

"Lizzy, don't mind me. I am sure Mr Bingley will be all that is charming, I,... I just,... Well I do wish Mama would not get her hopes up so, that is all. It takes much more than a pretty gown and a pleasant face to interest such a man. No, no I am quite certain Lizzy, I am quite safe from Mr Bingley. I only look forward so to meeting his sisters, do not you also?"

"Jane, you are much more than a pretty gown and a pleasant face! Mr Bingley, or any other gentleman for that matter would be fortunate to find a woman worth half of you in all the empire!" Elizabeth enthused, but Jane merely returned to her task with a rosy blush adorning her cheeks.

"I must admit though, Mama has outdone herself on your gown for tonight, I cannot wait to see you this evening! You shall be the most beautiful lady present by far, not that that is unusual!"

"Lizzy! You are much too hard on yourself! You are quite pretty. If only you did not insist on that awful green frock! Honestly Lizzy, you know it makes you look positively drawn!"

"That is quite alright, I shall never marry in any case!" Elizabeth replied lightly.

"Lizzy! How can you say that? I am sure that you shall someday find a man that can make you perfectly happy."

"I very much doubt it, but I do not mind in any case, I shall be far too busy looking after all the children you and Mr Bingley shall not doubt have!" Lizzy laughed, earning a reproving glare from her sister.

"There is no talking to you when you are in this mood Lizzy. I shall take Mothers tray up to her, no doubt the girls will be in soon. Why don't you have something to eat, you must be positively famished."

As Jane left the room there was the unmistakable sound of feet rushing across floorboards followed by high-pitched squealing as Lydia awoke Kitty and reminded her it was the day of the Assembly. Lizzy smiled, and allowed herself a moment to delight in the excitement herself.

Closing her eyes, Lizzy imagined the breakfast room a large hall, decked out in flowers and filled with laughter and smiling faces. Lizzy dropped a small curtsy to her partner, a tall gentleman with dark hair, but she could not make out his face and it did not matter in any case. Lizzy could hear in her mind the notes from the musicians instruments drifting across the room in an upbeat melody, and allowed her feet to move along with the unheard tune.

As she came toward her partner however, and reached out to place her hand into his, her hand was engulfed by something unexpectedly tangible.

Lizzy's eyes snapped open to find herself toe to toe with her Father, who was smiling down at her with much amusement.

"Might I have the pleasure of your hand for this dance Madam?" Mr Bennet inquired.

"Why yes, Sir, I do believe you may!" Lizzy laughed, and the two moved about the room together in perfect synchronization to a melody that neither could hear, but both understood.

As the dance ended, and they each executed a somewhat exaggerated bow to the other, the room was disturbed by the sound of loud clapping. Elizabeth startled suddenly, having not realized they were not alone.

Mr Smith stood in the doorway smiling widely as though he had just witnessed the finest dancing he had ever beheld.

"Mr Smith! I,.. I did not see you there." Elizabeth stammered.

"Ah, that would be my fault, my dear Lizzy." Mr Bennet smiled. "I instructed Mr smith to be silent that I might surprise you my dear."

"Well you most certainly did that, we have not done that in years Papa."

"Hmm, yes, these old floors did see their share of dancing in times gone by didn't they Lizzy dear. Now however you must let an old man sit down, or I shall be of no use to you this evening. These old knees just don't dance a jig like they used to."

As Mr Bennet maneuvered himself stiffly to the head of the table, Mr Smith entered the room fully. His shirt was now fully buttoned, but his cravat still lay loose about his neck.

"I apologize Miss Elizabeth if I startled you, I did not mean to do so. I have never seen anyone dance so without music before. Your footing was impeccable." William smiled, his admiration evident.

"Papa taught me to dance like that, you see our family is rather lacking in musician's Sir, but imagination we have in abundance! I cannot tell you how many times Papa and I used to dance in this very room in complete silence. We would quite frustrate Cook moving the table about." Lizzy laughed. "Really though, have you never danced without music before?"

"No Miss, I suppose we never had need to, and dancing is not such a favorite pastime for me in any case."

"Oh but you must! Dancing in silence is quite unlike dancing in a filled room! Nobody cares if you miss a step, you can just allow yourself to feel the music, the spirit, the dance!" Lizzy had closed her eyes in rapture, but now opened them once more to grin mischievously at William, "And best of all, your partner cannot step on your toes!"

William laughed, delighted by her playfulness.

"Come, Mr Smith, take a seat and break your fast, I fear Mama shall not be joining us this morning, and with everybody arising late I'm afraid it is a somewhat informal affair, so there is no need to wait."

"Actually Miss Elizabeth, I only came in for a roll to take back out with me. I Fear I have too much to do this morning to change my attire." With this William shifted uncomfortably, well aware that his current appearance was quite unsuitable for a dining room, and held the faint aroma of horses.

"I told him he was being utterly insensible, but he does not wish to offend the ladies, my dear." Mr Bennet said with a wry grin, knowing full well that such a comment would only serve to make Elizabeth more determined that he stay.

"Nonsense! Take a seat Mr Smith, I won't hear of anything else! You have been working hard for many hours already, you really must take a rest. Besides, Mama is not coming down this morning as I said, and Jane will stay with her for a while yet, and as you know only too well, there are no other real ladies in this house!" Lizzy teased, knowing he would not fail to take the bait.

William was mortified by her speech, and responded without thought before he had a chance to recognise her teasing.

"I have never before met a woman more deserving the title, madam, than yourself.".

The room fell to silence for a moment, as Elizabeth blushed, unsure how to respond, and William, realizing how personal the comment -which had seemed so innocent at the time- had been. Shifting awkwardly, he attempted to correct his error, but achieved little more than a stammering apology that had little effect beyond deepening the blush that graced Miss Elizabeth's cheeks.

Mr Bennet, who until now had been quite enjoying the little display of ridiculousness, at last sat forward in his chair and interrupted.

"For heavens sake young man, sit down and eat something."

Glad for the interruption, William tore his eyes away from Miss Elizabeth, and quite forgetting his earlier reasons for not doing so, sat down abruptly.

"A roll Sir?" Lizzy offered, holding out the basket which he accepted gratefully.

"Mr Smith will not be attending the Assembly tonight my dear, he is quite adamant." Mr Bennet commented, smearing a thick layer of butter across his own roll.

"Is that so, Mr Smith?" Responded Lizzy, her teasing returned, "But you had specifically requested a place on my dance card this evening Sir!"

"As you were aware Miss Bennet, I was entirely in jest at the time." William smiled back.

"A canceled slot on my card? Oh Mr Smith! You have no care for my poor nerves!" Lizzy cried, theatrically throwing her arm across her eyes and threatening to swoon in a perfect mockery of her Mother, to which both gentlemen chuckled.

"How is Mrs Bennet this morning? I hope she is not unwell?" William inquired.

"Just a headache, I do believe. It shall pass soon enough, thank you for asking." Replied Mr Bennet.

"Mama has been overdoing things a little this year, I think. She really must rest for a few days when all this is over." Lizzy commented.

"I do believe you are right my dear, as must you and Jane. You have all been up late, rising early, and working far too hard." Mr Bennet patted his daughters hand fondly.

"Oh but it has been such fun Papa! I am not a bit tired, but I think you may be right about Jane, I do think she is getting a little run down."

"Well I am sure you need not to be involved in the clean-up, Miss Elizabeth, Stephen and I shall have everything in hand on the morrow." Mr Smith smiled. It was true, the two young ladies had worked easily as hard as most of the servants these past few days, and though Miss Elizabeth seemed to thrive on the extra exertion, Miss Jane he had noticed was beginning to wan.

The rest of the day flew by in a haze of activity, until finally they were ready to leave.

Lizzy cast herself one last look in the mirror, and tried desperately not to compare herself to her sister as Jane walked up behind her.

Jane was dressed in a glorious pale pink sheer fabric with delicate cap sleeves,that highlighted her perfect complexion, whilst simultaneously bringing out her light blue eyes. The neckline was cut modestly enough to suit Jane, but low enough to enhance her bosom as Mrs Bennet had directed. Her ribbons were a shade paler than the fabric of her gown, and a generous number had been woven through her golden tresses to allow the style to be half up half down, with plenty of silky golden curls adorning her face and neck. In a word she was divine.

A less than pleasant part of Lizzy made a note to be sure to enjoy Mr Alex Lucas face when he caught sight of her tonight.

Lizzy looked back to herself. The dark forest green muslin was caught about the waist with black ribbons, and the sleeves came as far as her elbows. The tight bodice was drawn about the neckline with a gathering stitch that might have appeared quite nice on a fuller bosom, but only served to make Lizzy look thin and angular. The dark colors highlighted the faint hollows in her face making her look gaunt, and almost sickly.

But, as Jane had pointed out earlier, when she straightened her spine and smiled for all she was worth, the dress was but a backdrop for her personality, and Lizzy had always been loved for who she was, not how she looked.

Jane pulled a lightly embroidered fine wool shawl about her shoulders, and turned to Lizzy.

"Are you ready Lizzy?"

"As ready as I shall ever be I daresay . Shall we go check on Lydia and Kitty?"

"Yes, I do think Sarah could do with a hand keeping Lydia down tonight, she is awfully upset still about your loaning Kitty that gown and not her." Said Jane, looking troubled.

"Jane can you even imagine Lydia trying to fit into it! Her bosom would split the seams! It was a gift from Papa and I don't want it ruined." Lizzy replied as they left their room.

"She is developing very quickly isn't she? I think we might need to talk to Papa about getting her day gown's altered, it is becoming unseemly. If the seams could be let out a little, I think we could add a little lace to bring the neckline higher."

Upon entering the room Lydia and Kitty shared, Jane and Elizabeth encountered a very frazzled looking Sarah attempting to tie the laces on Lydia's gown.

"Please Miss Lydia, you must stand still!"

"But I hate this dress! Yellow is most unflattering, you know it is!" Lydia cried.

"It's the dress you chose! Why did you choose it if you hate it so?" Asked a perplexed Sarah.

"Because it looks well on Kitty, and I wanted to wear the blue!"

"Well it's what your wearing now. Here Sarah, I will tie her. Lydia if you don't stand still I will inform Papa you are not coming after all." Lizzy said, stepping in and taking hold of the situation.

"Oh thank you Miss, I haven't even had a chance to check in on Miss Mary yet!"

"Go see to Mary, Sarah, we will finish getting these two sorted. Papa will be wanting to leave shortly. How is Mama?"

"She's fine Miss, all ready to go and having a bite to eat before you leave is all."

"Good. Thankyou Sarah." Jane smiled, before walking across to Kitty who was trying, and failing, to tie her ribbons.

Half an hour later the five girls gathered outside as William brought the horses around. The carriage had never looked so good. It shone in the late afternoon sun, and the brass fitting were all freshly polished. The horses too were looking marvelous, and the girls all cooed over how fine they would look pulling up to the Assembly.

Elizabeth waited as her Father took his seat opposite her mother, then Jane, and each of the other girls found their positions. Finally, she stood forward to step up, but found herself being handed into the carriage by Mr Smith, who had finally finished with the horses. Just as she was about to let go of his hand however, the pressure increased just slightly. As her eyes met his, he whispered quietly to her,

"You look lovely this evening Miss Bennet."

Surprised, Elizabeth simply smiled, feeling beautiful for the first time that day, before he was gone and she was left to sit down amidst the chatter and laughter of her family.

William walked back into the house without turning to watch the carriage leave, his mind and heart ablaze even as he stretched his fingers, unable to forget the feel of her slight hand in his.

All day he had watched in silence as Miss Elizabeth had worked for her family like some sort of common servant.

William had been in the stables when he had seen a light flicker into life in the room she shared with Miss Jane. He had not been left long to wonder at it however, as Sarah had explained to him when she had come out to gather some wood to light a fire in one of the rooms. Apparently, Miss Elizabeth would work alongside her to ready the gowns and like, whilst Miss Jane would arise later and help Cook arrange the morning meal.

William had to admire her hard working spirit, but that admiration had turned to irritation as right through the day he had heard her called from one room to the next to sort out some disaster or other. While the other girls had rested about midday, she had been busy mending a torn spencer, and even when the other girls had long been in their rooms getting ready, she had been arranging a light supper to calm her mothers ever mounting nerves.

Then, just as they were all gathering to depart, he had over heard Mrs Bennet lecturing her on trying to improve her appearance a little. Her hair was too simply arranged. She needed to eat more, she was too thin. Her bosom was so very unappealing. The green of her gown so unbecoming.

He had quickly come to realize about Miss Elizabeth, that she did not suffer from the same vanity that most women he had encountered, but tonight she had become visibly disheartened.

He could agree that the gown was not the most flattering, but clearly Mrs Bennet was missing how striking it made her appear! The dark green made her dark hair shine even darker, and made her eyes sparkle almost like black diamonds. The dress accentuated how slight she was, and made a man want to protect her from all the worlds evils.

William tried to clear his head. When had this happened? He realized now that he had been denying it to himself for some time. He had told himself that he respected her. Admired her. But when he had handed her up into the carriage, needing to let her know how lovely she looked no matter what anyone said, that small touch had set his insides alight.

In that single moment he had wanted nothing more than to never let her go. Had she asked he was certain he would have not only attended tonight, but claimed her every dance, and damn the consequences!

Suddenly everything was clear. He didn't admire her. Admire was such a weak and insufficient word! He cared for her. No- he 'cared' for Georgiana. He adored her. No, still too insufficient. He,... He...

Darcy suddenly stopped walking and looked around to see where his absent minded strides had led him, and found himself in that little glen he had first discovered when she had been there, sat on a rock by the waters edge. Darcy walked across to that rock and reached down to pick up a black ribbon she had left behind some days ago after it had fallen from her hair.

Stood in a small glade in the middle of Hertfordshire, holding a fluttering black length of silk in his hand, Darcy's whole world seemed for one moment so clear. His entire life, his entire being, summed up in three impossible little words, whispered with only the trees to hear.

"I love her."


	13. Chapter 13

_**Okay, so I can admit to having been secretly nervous of this chapter, as I am putting my spin on an existing and well loved scene. It's so much less pressure writing original scenes! I do hope I have remained true to what we all know and love whilst retelling it. Please let me know your thoughts... good and bad. :)**_

Elizabeth gazed on as the third set of the evening continued, each beaming smile on every passing face a reflection of the joy within her own heart. So far, the room was scarcely crowded, with only about two thirds of the expected guests present, but every minute a new face seemed to appear, and the gaiety and general volume went up in accordance.

As Elizabeth's eyes scanned the room once more for her own family in among all the familiar faces, she could scarcely contain the laughter she felt bubbling up within her. Jane was was dancing this set with young Mr Simmons, who had apparently just stepped on Janes train for the third time.

Mr Simmons was a sweet young man, but terribly introverted. He had recently inherited a small farm just a few miles outside of Merryton from a distant uncle, and was proving an industrious farmer. His social skills however, were less than impressive. The Bennet Sisters had first met Mr Simmons some months back when he had called on Mr Bennet, and become immediately enamored of Jane. Since then, every time the young man had seen her, he had taken to becoming so uncomfortable as to be incapable of simple speech or even meeting her eye, which happened to be the problem now. Having summoned the courage to ask Jane to dance, he could now not bring himself to look at her, and as a result the set was painful at best.

Jane, in her eternal graciousness, was doing all she could to cover his faux pas, without attracting attention, whilst simultaneously attempting to avoid catching the eye of her former beau, Mr Alex Lucas, who stood across the room scowling at the pair for all he was worth. Indeed, after leading his bride in the first set, he had done little else since.

A small part of Lizzy was vindicated to see he was not unaffected by Jane, but a more rational part of her knew that it would be better if he were, as perhaps it might make things more bearable for dear Jane.

Looking further, Lizzy spied her Mother and Father stood alongside her Aunt and Uncle Phillips, and laughed outright as she caught her Fathers eye, who merely rolled his own in pretended irritation. Mr Bennet would have all the world believe he could scarce abide his wifes frivolous nature, but Lizzy had always seen beyond it to the man who would eternally be delighted by her lighthearted gaiety, which at this very moment shone from her radiantly. Though her speech and laughter was somewhat too loud to be considered seemly, the mirth she projected amongst her companions infected each as it went.

Much alike Lydia, who currently danced with Tom Dunbar, the grocers youngest son. Lydia's face shone with delight and her laughter echoed down the row repeatedly, making Lizzy cringe slightly at her vulgarity. Yet in a room full of companions who had each known Lydia since she was in the cradle, her childlike antics were deemed charming and delightful. Kitty too was dancing with one of the five Dunbar boys, her face alight with merriment.

Mary on the other hand, had found a position near the musicians, where she seemed content to simply observe.

Drawing her attention back to the dance floor, Lizzy caught sight of Charlotte, who had recently left her side to dance with Mr George Tippen. Charlotte rarely danced, so it was nice to see her enjoying herself so much. As yet, the new Mrs Warren had yet to arrive, though her father, Mr Brummel, had arrived some minutes ago and now stood near a group of other gentleman looking clearly uncomfortable. Lizzy thought she might head across to him and try to coax him into a more relaxed mood, but at that very moment the set ended, and both Jane and Charlotte's partners returned them to Elizabeth's side.

Jane and Mr Simmons arrived first, and after awkwardly stammering a short thank-you for the dance, a very red-faced Mr Simmons beat as hasty a retreat as possible.

Charlotte arrove just behind him on the arm of Mr Tippen, causing the gangly young man to almost trip over them in his haste, and put the entire group to the test not to giggle at his strange behavior.

"Jane, whatever have you done to our poor Mr Simmons!" Charlotte laughed behind her hand once he was safely out of earshot.

"I fear he is terribly shy, it was very kind of him to invite me to dance." Jane blushed prettily.

"He is a good man, albeit a tad shy as you say, Miss Jane. But I must say I have never seen him behave so before. I think he might rather have been somewhat overcome by your beauty Miss, and not the only one, if you will forgive my saying. " Mr Tippen smiled with amusement, tipping his head in the direction of Mr Alex Lucas whose eyes still strayed continually to Jane.

Jane blushed yet further with embarrassment, but not offence at Mr Tippen's words.

Almost as soon as he had arrived, he had ventured across to their group and quickly reestablished the familiarity that had been allowed to lapse over the past years. It intrigued Elizabeth, how even after all this time, he fit into their group almost like an elder brother.

George Tippen was a tall lanky man, with sandy blonde hair and bushy eyebrows that sat atop kind blue eyes. His skin had tanned from working outdoors, and his face bore lines that implied rather more years than his seven and twenty. George, or Mr Tippen- Lizzy constantly had to keep reminding herself, was the same age as Charlotte, and of a very similar disposition. Whilst he had a good sense of humor, he was a great deal more serious than Lizzy, though to be sure, his life since their last being in company had not been easy, and such things had a way of maturing people early.

Still, he had an easy manner about him that allowed him to make such a comment without its being either cruel or hurtful to either party.

"Indeed, I must apologize for my brother, jane, he seems set to scowl at you all night." Charlotte commented, frustrated that her ill-mannered brother seemed set to fuel the rumors that had so recently begun to abate.

"And who can blame him?" Lizzy laughed brightly, attempting to lighten the situation, "you look so delightful tonight that if every man in the room does not end the night hopelessly in love with you, I am no judge of beauty!"

Janes blush deepened yet further, yet she appreciated her sisters diversion, and replied

"Or men, it would seem."

"Oh no. Their far too easy!" Laughed Lizzy, scrunching her nose at the suggestion.

"Their not all bad Lizzy." Jane chided gently, mildly concerned by the hint of contempt in her sister, bourne as Jane knew only too well, of years of being slighted by men in preference for the prettier sister. Years of living in Janes shadow had never bred an ounce of jealousy or discontent as it might have in many sisters, but it had inclined Lizzy to regard the male gender in general with a certain scorn.

"Humorless poppycocks in my limited experience." Lizzy smiled lightly, adding with a laugh, "Present company excluded, of course, Mr Tippen."

Jane frowned slightly at her sister, knowing as she did that Lizzy's apparent disregard for the opposite sex was rooted in her uncertainty that she would ever find an worthy equal, anything less of course being utterly unacceptable. But that was a familiar argument for another time and place.

"Someday Lizzy, someone will catch your eye, and you will have to watch your tongue!"

"I think Miss Elizabeth is just upset nobody has yet asked her to dance, Miss Bennet!" Mr Tippen smiled, "Might I be permitted to alter that, Miss Elizabeth?" He asked, holding his hand out to her.

Lizzy laughed brightly, but replied instead, "I would be delighted Sir, but I fear I have been awaiting a friends arrival all night and she has just arrived. Charlotte, is that not Mrs Warren now?"

"Indeed Lizzy, let us go greet her. Jane, Mr Tippen, if you would excuse us?" Charlotte smiled before heading in the direction of the former Miss Brummel.

"Indeed, the woman had arrived some moments ago, and after entering the room, had remained awkwardly standing to the rear of the room on her new husbands arm, greeted by no-one, though several of the townsfolk had turned to look the pair up and down, then moved away.

Mr Brummel had come across to stand beside his daughter, but a reserved man by nature he did not aid his daughters cause much by his so doing.

Charlotte hurried right up to Mrs Warren, and grasped her hands in her own.

"I am so glad you were able to come Hannah, it is so good to see you! You remember Miss Elizabeth Bennet, of Longbourne?"

"M-Miss El-lizabeth. H-how good to see you ag-gain." She murmered, scarcely raising her eyes from the floor.

"I am glad to see you also, Mrs Warren. Might I offer my congratulations on your nuptials, I am very glad for you both. Mr Warren, you have chosen a lovely bride." Lizzy enthused brightly.

Mr Warren, who had until now observed his wifes conversation in wary silence, beamed at the compliment.

"Much obliged to you Miss Elizabeth, I quite agree. My dear Hannah has already made me a very happy man, though we have not long been wed." He patted Mrs Warrens hand that rested on his arm fondly, and though her answering smile was scarcely that of a woman in love, it lit her face aglow with a contentment that Elizabeth had never seen in her before.

"Mrs Warren, would you like a glass of punch? Mama had our cook make certain to make plenty of her special recipe, but still it disappears fast. Perhaps you would like to join me, I was about to get a glass myself."

"I-I would be m-much obliged M-miss Elizab-beth."

Elizabeth kept up a steady stream of light-hearted conversation as they made their way to the refreshments table, but even as she did so she was very aware of the stares directed from the townsfolk. It seemed that the Warrens were set to tread a hard road among the community.

Upon arriving at the refreshment stand, Lizzy made a decision she hoped she would not come to regret, and directed Mrs Warren to the end of the table where Mrs Rush was serving drinks.

Mrs Rush was well known to be one of the most profusive gossips in Merryton. Widowed young with three small children, she made do on a small widows pension, and filled her boredom with constant interference in others lives. For those she considered friends, there was little to be concerned by, but for those she scorned, her wicked tongue could destroy ones reputation in little time.

"Miss Elizabeth! How good it is to see you Miss! Why just yesterday I was thinkin' of you! I heard a whiles back you'd taken ill, I do hope your well now though?"

"Yes indeed, Mrs Rush, I am well as you can see. It was only a trifling cold, barely worth mention. But thank-you for being so kind as to ask. Mrs Rush, are you acquainted with Mrs Warren? We just came across to get a glass of punch if we might." Lizzy smiled brightly, pretending not to notice her companions paled complexion, nor the way Mrs Rush's eyes narrowed upon seeing her companion, her chin jerking up defiantly.

"Yes Miss Elizabeth, of course, as you know Longbournes punch is the finest to be found in three counties at least." She replied pouring two glasses, but rudely refusing to make eye contact with Mrs Warren.

"Tell me, Mrs Rush, your house is scarce a mile from the Warren farm is it not?" Lizzy continued, seemingly oblivious to the womans slight.

"That it is Miss, just the other side of the western copse of tree's."

"Well that settles it then! You see, Mrs Warren was just now telling me how very much she is enjoying her new role as a mother to Mr Warrens children, she cares for his three little ones, the eldest being seven and the twins only three, and it got me to thinking of your precious brood. They are about the same ages are they not?" Lizzy asked sweetly.

"Yes Miss, my Ezra is eight, with Joel and Toby just gone four." Mrs Rush replied with all the pride of a young mother in love with her children.

"I thought as much. I thought Mrs Warren and I might pack some small cakes and the like next week, and bring the children over to meet each other. Perhaps a picnic among the trees would be nice? It would do the children well to have friends so close, and I'm sure Mrs Warren would enjoy your experience with the wee one's. The twins are running her quite spare she tells me, why just last night they hid in the broom cupboard to avoid being put to bed!" Lizzy giggled, noting her success, as she attacked Mrs Rush's greatest weakness.

Mrs Rush had lost her husband when she was barely three months gone with the twins, Joel and Toby. With no family to assist her, she had truly proven herself as a mother, raising her three babes into well-mannered young boys. Indeed, they would be a good influence on the Warren boys if Elizabeth could melt their mothers reserve, as the Warren boys were well known in town to be sweet but difficult young boys, allowed far too much liberty since their mothers unfortunate passing almost a year ago.

"Oh don't you mind them, Maám, they'll soon come round. It's a right horrid phase but it'll pass before you know it! Not that the next phase is much better mind you. My two can't be kept out of the dirt now, you'll not find a clean shirt on their backs these days, and not for want of scrubbing mind you! Now Ezra, he weren't much better himself, found himself a frog a few weeks back,..."

Elizabeth smiled and retreated slightly from the conversation as Mrs Rush began to gush about her boy's, and Mrs Warren timidly began to ask questions and smile, as the two bonded over what they shared in common. Lizzy was soon forgotten, as Mrs Rush, relived from her duties by another local woman, hurried the now smiling Mrs Warren across to a group of women who had previously snubbed her, but now allowed her, if somewhat begrudgingly, into their group on the arm of one of their own.

Lizzy smiled at her accomplishment as Charlotte returned to her side.

"That was very kind of you Lizzy, I knew you would be able to help her." Charlotte murmured softly.

"I didn't do much Charlotte, she is such a sweet girl, her nature will win over any who give her a chance."

"Yes, but most would not have given her that chance, Lizzy."

"Charlotte, if I might ask, why are you so concerned by her? I did not realize you two were close?" Elizabeth asked, at last venting her curiosity.

"We are not, at least, not like you and I Lizzy. It is only that I see so much of myself in her. I admire her for her choice."

Lizzy frowned at that, "Do you really think she can be happy, Charlotte? I mean really happy, not just content. I cannot imagine sacrificing any chance of ever finding happiness in love, merely to be content in comfort."

"We cannot all afford the Luxury of waiting on what may never arrive, Lizzy. For some of us, contentment is as good as happiness. Besides, who says that out of companionship, more cannot grow? I believe that love can be chosen, Lizzy. If one can respect just one quality in ones partner, surely that can be built upon?"

Lizzy frowned again, and was just about to respond, when suddenly the entire room fell to a hush.

Standing in the entranceway, stood four elegantly dressed newcomers, undoubtedly the new tenants of Netherfield. Lizzy observed the group closely as they made a slow progression through the hall, the awed hush giving way to tittering gossip as they passed through the crowd.

The young gentleman whom Charlotte pointed out as "our Mr Bingley", stood a good head taller than the rest, and had a full head of bright red almost curly hair. His presentation was impeccable, with a finely tailored coat, and tight fashionable breeches. Yet despite the obvious quality of his apparel, he had an open face, and an unpretentious air about him. He was clearly glad to be present, and regarded the company with an eagerness that endeared him to Lizzy immediately.

The woman on his arm however, despite her fair complexion and similarly brilliant tresses which declared her Mr Bingley's sibling, appeared to have little what-so-ever in common the man. Her cold green eyes washed over the assembly with undisguised contempt, her thin rouged lips drawn in a tight displeased line. Miss Bingley, as Charlotte confirmed, was dressed in the height of fashion in a radiant white gown of the finest silk, with a trailing short train, and Elizabeth had to stifle a giggle as she imagined her attempting to regally pick her way through what was sure by now to be a quagmire of horse dung outside the entranceway.

Unlike the fancy house party's and balls of London, where a lady might alight from her carriage onto a carpet to protect her delicate slippered feet and hem, the Merryton Assembly was held in the town Hall, where carriages and carts alike dropped their occupants in an open courtyard which must be traversed before being admitted into the hall. Despite all efforts to the contrary sadly, this area became quite soiled over time, and attendees had learned to avoid trailing hems at all cost.

To Mr Bingley's opposing side, stood another gentleman, of much shorter stature, and a much more generous girth. With a deeply receding hairline, he looked to be at least forty years of age, and seemed utterly bored with his surroundings. He, Charlotte identified as Mr Hurst, with the lady on his arm as being his wife, Mrs Hurst.

Mrs Hurst, much alike her husband, wore much simpler garb than her siblings, though still highly fashionable. Her gown was of a medium blue, trimmed in whit lace, but whilst it suited her very well, it did little to hide the disdain in her air.

Lizzy dropped into a curtsy as the group passed but could not staunch the giggle that erupted once they had moved on, earning her a disapproving glare from Charlotte.

Once they had reached the front of the room, and were greeted by their host, Sir Lucas, the music resumed and the room returned to it's amusements, with only a heightened excitement among the mothers to show for the newcomers.

Soon enough, Elizabeth spotted her mother gathering as much of her family together as she could, and rolling her eyes she laughed to her friend,

"It appears we are about to meet the fabulous Mr Bingley. Come Charlotte, you cannot abandon me now!"

"Oh Lizzy, you are much too dramatic you know! He is really very nice." Charlotte responded, but followed her dear friend towards the Bennet matriarch in any case.

Sir Lucas, who remained in conversation with Mr Bingley as they approached, spotted their arrival, and promptly introduced them enthusiastically.

"Ah, Mr Bingley. Might I have the pleasure of introducing the Bennets. My daughter, Charlotte, of course you already know. But Mr Bennet here has the most handsome girls in the county to his name. Might I introduce you to Mr Bennet, Mrs Bennet, the delightful Miss Jane Bennet, our beloved Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and of course Miss Mary Bennet."

"Mr Bennet, a pleasure to see you again so soon." Mr Bingley grinned, to which Mr Bennet responded in like. "Mrs Bennet, Miss Bennet, Miss Bennet, and, well, Miss Bennet. A pleasure to meet you. I look forward to becoming better acquainted, as we are neighbors and all." The young man smiled gregariously, though his eye's caught on Jane, and he seemed hard pressed to tear them away.

After a rather awkward moment, Mrs Bennet said, "I have two others, but their already dancing."

"Indeed, well I look forward to making their acquaintance. I must say, this is the most delightful dance I have ever been honored to attend."

"It is an annual event, Sir. The entire town looks forward to it every year. I am glad you find it pleasing." Jane responded, evidently pleased by his sincere praise.

"Indeed, how could anyone not? I declare it utterly charming! Miss Bennet, perhaps you might do me the honor of permitting me the next set? I find I am quite eager to join in."

His cheeks flushed a delicate pink as he asked and Lizzy decided she liked him already.

"I would be delighted Sir, but I fear I am already engaged for the next set, so I must decline."

"Oh." Mr Bingley replied, his face falling, but Sir Lucas quickly intervened with his robust laughter.

"Indeed, I do believe that honor is mine is it not. But I am sure she would gladly dance the next with you Sir should you so desire."

"It would be my honor, if you are not already engaged that is."

"Of course she would be most glad to dance with you Mr Bingley, thank-you so much for the honor." Mrs Bennet gushed to the mortification of her daughters, but Mr Bingley scarcely seemed to notice, only beaming at her acceptance.

"Well perhaps Miss Lucas might allow me this dance, then?" He smiled, to which Charlotte assented, and placing her hand in his, they joined the throng.

As the two couples removed to the dance floor, Elizabeth turned her attention to the remainder of the Bingley party, who had remained apart during the introductions.

The Gentleman, Mr Hurst as she had been told, now took several steps forward to greet her father.

"Mr Bennet, a pleasure to see you this evening." His manner, though disinterested, was pleasant enough, and Lizzy waited to be introduced.

"Indeed, indeed, and likewise. Might I introduce My wife, Mrs Bennet, and our two daughters, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and Miss Mary Bennet."

The women all bobbed their curtsy's once more, as Mr Hurst bid his wife and sister-in-law to come forward.

"A pleasure to meet you, ladies. Might I introduce my wife Mrs Hurst, and my sister-in-law Miss Caroline Bingley."

"A pleasure, I'm sure." Said Miss Bingley, but Lizzy rather thought that the comment was somewhat sarcastic by the obvious sneer on her face.

"How are you enjoying the country, Miss Bingley?" Asked Lizzy, amused rather than offended by the haughty womans demeanor.

"Charles tells me I cannot judge after just a few short days, but I confess I enjoy the excitement of London, and am hard pressed to find amusement here. But perhaps once I have made more acquaintance's in the neighborhood that may alter significantly."

"I do hope that might be so, though I must confess I adore the country life, I daresay I would need some time to adjust to a dramatic change in society also."

"Indeed." Miss Bingley replied coldly, and made no further attempt at conversation.

"And yourself, Mrs Hurst?" Lizzy enquired, interested to discover if both the sisters were equally snobbish.

"Hertfordshire is a loverly area Miss Elizabeth, I look forward to seeing more of it. As Mr Hurst and I return in just a few weeks to town, I am looking forward to enjoying the time with my family." Mrs Hurst replied with a small smile, that was genuine, if not especially warm.

"It will be a pleasure to become acquainted with you then, while you are in the area." Lizzy responded politely, before turning to watch the dancers move across the floor.

Lizzy watched as Mr Bingley claimed her sisters hand for the next set, and was pleased to see them smiling warmly together. Mr Bingley soon had Jane laughing, and as the set ended they walked slowly back towards the group.

"Mrs Bennet, might I commend you on your splendid daughter. She dances beautifully." Bingley enthused brightly, scarce able to drag his eyes away from the eldest Bennet daughter.

"Why thankyou for your generosity Mr Bingley. My Jane does so enjoy dancing. And you also, Sir, are a fine dancer yourself. Not once did you step on my dear janes gown, as often occurs." Replied Mrs Bennet merrily.

Jane blushed heavily at the obvious slight intended to Mr Simmons, and Lizzy endeavored to steer the subject to safer territory.

"Indeed, my sisters are all very fond of dancing, as I daresay all young ladies are. Poor Papa scarce got a moments silence when we were younger, with us constantly dancing about, indoors and out. Miss Charlotte Lucas used to join us often also, we made such a merry party." Lizzy laughed.

"Yes, your friend Miss Lucas, a most amusing young woman." Mr Bingley smiled.

"Oh yes, I adore her!" Lizzy replied, her face glowing with obvious affection for her dear friend.

"Hmm, it is a pity she is not more handsome." Observed Mrs Bennet.

"Mama!" Elizabeth erupted, mortified by her mothers insensitive words, though Mr Bingley seemed amused by her indecorous comment.

"Oh but Lizzy would never admit that she is plain. Why, it is my Jane who is considered the great beauty of the county. Why not so long ago she had a man so deeply in love with her, I felt certain he would make her an offer, however, he wrote her some very pretty verses..."

Jane had stiffened and gone as white as a sheet whilst this was said, and even Mr Bingley was shifting awkwardly until Elizabeth, unable to bear her sisters humiliation a moment longer, burst in on her mothers ramble.

"And that was the end of that. I wonder whoever first discovered the power of poetry in driving away love?" Lizzy giggled, desperate to deflect the conversation from Janes humiliation.

"I thought you young ladies considered poetry the food of love?" Drawled Mr Hurst.

"Of a fine stout love it may be, but if only a vague inclination, I fear one fair sonnet shall kill it stone dead." Lizzy responded gaily.

"Ah, well then my dear," Mr Hurst said, turning to his wife, "Just as well I am no poet, aye?"

The group laughed at that, and the Bingley party removed themselves to get refreshments, though only after Mr Bingley secured another dance with Jane.

Mrs Bennet moved off to gossip with a group of friends, leaving her husband with his two eldest daughters to watch the dancing. Soon, Charlotte joined their group on the arm of Mr Tippen.

"Why Charlotte, if you are not careful you shall start tongues wagging, I believe that is your second dance with Mr Tippen!" Lizzy teased her friend.

"Indeed, Lizzy, I do not recall ever having danced so much one night before! I have dance twice with each of the Harrier brothers also, and I fear my feet begin to ache." Replied Charlotte.

"Do I hear jealousy Miss Elizabeth? I have not seen you stand up yet this evening." Teased George Tippen in response.

"No! Not one dance! I know my dress is awful, but it cannot be that vile surely!" Laughed Lizzy.

"Well I did ask earlier, but you were otherwise occupied. Perhaps once I have caught my breath, I might have the honor?" George smiled.

"I would be greatly obliged to you Sir." Laughed Lizzy.

"I have heard your farm is doing well these days, Mr Tippen." Commented Mr Bennet with some interest.

"Indeed, Sir. It's been a good many years hard work, but we are beginning to see the rewards now." George smiled proudly.

"I have been hearing interesting reports about some new methods you have been using in the fields since you took over?" Enquired Mr Bennet.

"Indeed. Our crops have been steadily increasing over recent years, and this coming harvest, we are looking to be cropping double on what my father was doing when he was alive. Things have changed allot since then. We have two large new barns now that are all the difference, and we have just recently made purchase of a magnificent Shire mare in foal. She is due any day now."

"Ah, yes, she will speed things up a great deal. You must let us know when the foal is born, I'm sure Lizzy will be just as eager to meet the new one as I am to see your new developments." Mr Bennet smiled warmly.

"My sister and I would be honored to have you call Sir, and Miss Elizabeth, of course."

"How is Little Carry? I hear Amelia has married just recently." Lizzy asked.

"Yes, she has indeed, we miss her terribly. But Daniel is a good man in her majesty's Navy, and I know he will take good care of her. They are to sail for India in a month. As for Carry, she is,... Well, Carry. There is no keeping that girl down." George smiled fondly, laughter rumbling in his chest as he spoke of his sister.

"I think she works easily as hard as me in the field, and manages the house now Amelia is gone too. I worry it is too much for her, she's such a tiny wee thing. If all goes to plan however, I hope to begin lightening her load by next winter."

"How do you intend to do that, Mr Tippen?" Charlotte asked.

"Well, assuming the harvest comes in as expected, we will be able to finally take on more staff. Another good man and she can stop helping with the more physical labor, and though I haven't told her yet, I was hoping to take on a married couple, so the wife could help out about the house too. Carry works so hard, I'd like to see her get a chance to just be young for a bit."

"That's very noble of you, young man, though some might ask why not just marry yourself?" Mr Bennet asked, enjoying making the younger man blush and squirm.

"Well Sir, I was thinking it might be time to consider that too. Which is another reason I want help about the house. I'll never forget my mother working herself spare trying to keep up with the house, gardens, us wee ones, and some of the farm work too. There were nights she didn't get to bed till the sun was already starting to rise, and even then she scarce got a wink before Carry was crying. I want more than that for my wife. For my family. It's a hard life on a farm in some respects, but I think that very soon I'll be able to offer a woman a good life."

"I'm sure you will young man, I'm sure you will." Mr Bennet smiled indulgently.

"Now, Miss Elizabeth, might I have the honor?" He smiled, mockingly bowing low before her and offering his hand.

"I would be delighted Mr..."

Whatever might have been said next however was lost as young Stephen, one of the hands at Longbourn rushed up to Mr Tippen, clearly out of breath.

"Mr Tippen, Sir! You must come quickly! Theres been a fire Sir, and Carry's been hurt mighty bad! Mr Smith sent me to get help straight away."

The color drained from Mr Tippen's face as he whispered,

"Carry? How bad is she hurt?"

"It's bad Sir, real bad. Mr Smith is with her now, but he said to get the doctor and the surgeon to hurry. There are a few trying to stop the fire, but Mr Smith said to give up on the sheds and try to stop it catching the house."

Mr Tippen stood in a shocked stillness, and Mr Bennet took charge.

"Right, Stephen run to Farmer Warren over there and tell him to gather as many strong hands as can be managed to the Tippen farm as soon as possible, then rush for the Doctor and let him know you'll need the surgeon also. Jane, you will stay here and help your mother and sisters home when they are ready. Try not to spread gossip, there is nothing gained by disturbing everyone's night. Lizzy, Miss Lucas, we might need you to help calm the girl and act as nurses, if you are willing? I know you can both be counted on."

"Of course Father, I will get my coat and meet you by the door." Lizzy replied before rushing off to do just that.

"I will ask Father to lend us his carriage, as I am certain he and Mother can ride home with your family." Charlotte suggested practically, glancing at the shocked George Tippen before rushing to her Father.

"Come, boy, it's a long night ahead." Mr Bennet said laying his hand on George's shoulder lightly, bringing him back to the present in an earth shattering rush.

As it was, Mr Bennets words proved true. It was to be one of the longest nights of George's life.


	14. Chapter 14

_**First and foremost, my deepest apologies to everyone for the unplanned hiatus!**_

_**I would love to be able to say that more regular updates are guaranteed, however to my frustration I cannot. Over the past several months my health has taken some very large hits leaving me entirely at its mercy. In 6 months I have gone from about in control of ones life as you can get with 4 wee ones, to careening wildly out of control and barely managing to care for my families basic needs. Due to severely low iron and hemoglobin my speech is often difficult to put together much less writing. Thus this chapter represents a depressing number of hours! (to be fair I get enough of them stuck in bed!)**_

_**It won't be forever, and I hope to get on top of things, but as I am now struggling with a very poorly timed pregnancy to boot, (I am actually getting excited... finally!) I am not sure if that will mean more chapters or less. With near constant internal bleeding I am forever stuck in a chair or a bed, so as my head slowly clears hopefully that's more! Once again, I am sorry, this might just be the slowest story ever!**_

_**I had hoped to get the night of the fire out in one hit, but trying to put all the events into one chapter was just far too much, so here is part one. Enjoy!**_

_**PS, A huge thank you to all those who have stuck with me, and especially those such as LotsOfLaundry who always have such encouraging words. As per typos etc, I hope at some point to do a huge revision, but till then, please be forgiving! **_

**CHAPTER 14**

Time passed by unheeded for Darcy as he stood in the small glade, absorbed in the tranquil serenity afforded by the trickling stream and the whisper of the trees. He remained in place for hours mutely watching the ribbon in his hand flutter this way and that in the gentle breeze, not so very unalike his own thoughts.

The moment of Darcy's revelation everything seemed simple and clear. For once, Darcy could see a clear path through the confused mess that generally shrouded his emotions. His heart was not weighed down by his families expectations, nor his mind encumbered by the practicalities of such a match. His feelings for Miss Elizabeth were simple and beautiful, tangible, even. He could list a string of qualities he admired about her, and could clearly envisage a life with her by his side.

Standing there in what he had come to think of as Elizabeth's glade, Darcy indulged himself- imagining blissful images from a perfect future. He imagined bringing her home to Pemberly, the look in her fine eyes as she saw the gardens, and gaily strolled through the wooded trails. He imagined coming upon her sat embroidering in the drawing room with Georgiana, her tinkling laughter filling every corner of the room, a warm fire blazing even as the snow pelted against the window panes. A picnic in the late summer sun, both of them stretched out on the grass feeding one another sweet strawberries, a tiny baby girl cooing softly nearby.

But as the shadows grew longer, reality slowly began to ooze into Darcy's mind. His engagement to Anne. His fathers cruel disregard for his feelings. Georgiana.

Slowly, the happy images were replaced in his minds eye with harsher, more realistic images.

Introducing his new bride to his father, the old mans lips curling into a sneer as he reminded him once more how disappointed his mother would have been had she lived to see this day. His first foray into society with Elizabeth by his side, as one by one all the paramount ladies of the ton lifted their fans and outright snubbed her, the only acknowledgment of her existence a trail of vicious gossip and sniggering in her wake. The image of gentle Georgiana, her tiny delicate hand engulfed in the much larger, callused one of Richards, as together they pledge their lives even as rivulets of tears run down her face hidden only by her veil. But worst of all, Elizabeth's beautiful fine eyes, as day by day they lose their fire, until finally, all spirit and joy stripped bare by the endless hostility from his family, they dance no more, but look into his own with listless misery and regret.

Aunt Catherine's words from what seemed to Darcy a lifetime ago repeated in his ears, "Are you a peasant that you might marry the first pretty thing to catch your eye?"

No, Fitzwilliam Darcy was not a peasant. Fitzwilliam Darcy was the heir to The Pemberly estate. Fitzwilliam Darcy had responsibilities to uphold, and people to care for. Son of one of the wealthiest men in England, heir to one of the grandest estates in the kingdom, and nephew to the Earl of Matlock as well as his sister Lady DeBourgh, two of the most influential personages of the ton.

But what is more, Fitzwilliam Darcy was responsible for the happiness of his only sister, the only pure memory, only true legacy, of his mother- the late Anne Darcy. The daughter for whom she had given her life, yet never had the chance to watch grow. The child he had sworn to protect at any cost. The child whom he would give his life and future for in a heartbeat.

As Darcy stood thinking about this, he attempted to rationalize his emotions. After all, it was easy for William Smith, a simple working man, to fall in love and allow his heart to rule his mind. He had nobody but himself to please. But Darcy was not William Smith, and he knew he must remember that fact.

He was Fitzwilliam Darcy, heir of Pemberly and soon to be engaged to Miss Anne DeBough. He could not afford to give his heart to a mere country gentleman's daughter, with little to offer in dowry or connections.

Darcy closed his eyes against the searing pain in his heart as he realized that in coming here to Hertfordshire, he had gained much more than he had hoped, but that in returning to take his place he would have to give up so much more than he had started out with.

Before leaving Pemberly he had told Harvey, his valet and friend since childhood, that he wished to know if he had a soul to surrender to his father. Now he knew for a certainty he did, but that he would surrender it not to his father, but rather to Elizabeth, for surely it would be torn from him as he left her.

Attempting to shut out the pain in his heart and rouse himself from his melancholy, Darcy recalled that Elizabeth had mentioned a small hill not far from here where one could see a great distance. So reverently placing the now crushed strip of ribbon inside his breast pocket, Darcy turned and walked through the trees until he stood atop a large hill. Seating himself on a nearby rock, Darcy simply observed the landscape as dusk gently set in around him.

Darcy could make out two sizable estates from his vantage point, as well as a number of small farms. He identified the smaller house, a red brick house in the Tudor style, as Lucas Lodge, whilst several miles east of that lay a much larger, finer house. The picturesque multi-story Georgian manor shone a brilliant golden hue as the light sand stone walls caught the last rays of sun, the well kept gardens laid out immaculately before an expanse of green fields that had the appearance of a giant emerald patchwork quilt. It could only be Netherfield, thought Darcy, and he smiled at the boyish wonder he could just imagine on his dear friends face as Bingley first beheld the place.

So involved was he in his thoughts, that for some time he did not notice the thin line of black smoke ascending from the larger of the farms before him. But as the smoke steadily grew thicker and darker, Darcy began to take considerable note. The smoke seemed to be coming from a large barn, but he could not see evidence of anyone in attendance. Darcy realized that with the assembly in Merryton tonight, it was hardly unlikely that the farmer and his family were not around ,and therefore decided to go see what help, if any, he could offer.

Rising from his seat, he ran as fast as he could back to Longbourne, where he called Stephen to join him. Quickly, the two men saddled their horses and set out in the direction of the fire, the smoke now a thick black column in the evening sky.

As they neared the farm however, it became clear that the barn was already heavily ablaze. Panicked horses bolted up and down fencelines, a dog tied to the house barked madly as it strained against it's bindings, sheep in nearby fields huddled in the furthest corners, their frenzied eyes wide and bloodshot as they bayed in a wild chorus.

Appraising the situation quickly, Darcy leapt from his mount even as he yelled directions to Stephen to go back to Longbourne and get as much help as he could muster. The barn could not be saved, but if they hurried, perhaps they could prevent any further losses. Stephen hurriedly spurred his horse back and galloped off at speed.

Darcy attempted to see what his first move should be, and settled on freeing what animals he could so they might get clear of the smoke before they could harm themselves or anyone else. Most of the animals quickly put as much distance as they could between themselves and the blazing flames, but when Darcy freed the dog, a gorgeous long haired collie, he got a surprise. The dog ran straight for the burning barn, and leaping in through the flames, began to bark loudly from within.

Perplexed as he was, Darcy had long ago learned to trust canines, and warily followed the dog.

Shielding his eyes from the stinging smoke that choked his lungs, Darcy pulled his shirt over his mouth. As Darcy's sight slowly acclimatized to the smoke, he followed the direction of the dogs profuse barking, at last sighting the animal who was now vigorously tugging at a lump trapped under a fallen beam. Darcy peered into the swirling smoke, and with a sickening lurch in his stomach, realized the lump was in fact a young girl, her face pressed down into the straw, her lower half pinned to the ground by a huge wooden beam.

Darcy immediately rushed to the girls side and felt for a pulse, but as he did so, the girl began to stir, so instead he shook her shoulder gently.

"Miss, Miss! We need to get you out of here, can you help me?"

The girl blinked several times,seeming confused, but after a moment she quietly whispered a response.

"I... I tried,... But my legs,... I can't move them."

Darcy surveyed the damage, and noticed that one of the girls legs protruded at an odd angle, whilst the other had severe burning from the girls ankle to her knee, perhaps even further, but it was hidden by her thick skirts. Bracing himself against the heavy wood that pinned her down, Darcy attempted to move the beam from off her, but as he took the weight she was still unable to move herself out. Again and again Darcy attempted to heave the beam aside, but whilst he could lift it slightly for a short time, any serious movement was impossible. Finally, Darcy returned to the girl.

"Miss, I am going to have to try to drag you out, if we loose much more time we will not be able to get out of here at all. I am so sorry, it is going to hurt a great deal I fear." Darcy muttered to the girl, but she was drifting in and out of consciousness now, and he wondered if she even heard him.

Hooking his arms beneath her own dainty limbs, Darcy braced himself and heaved with all his might. It took several heavy pulls, but finally he managed to get her free, just as the roof began to give way to the back of the building. The girls leg was bleeding profusely now, as large areas of burnt skin had peeled away as it grated against the rough wooden beam. Exhausted and struggling for breath, Darcy hefted her into his arms awkwardly, and stumbled back the way he had come.

The collie that had earlier alerted him to the young girls plight was barking furiously once more, and Darcy wondered if someone else were trapped also. But there was no time now, as he would be fortunate to save just himself and the girl as it was. Peering desperately into the smoke to where the dog barked, he could just make out a bundled up blanket with a litter of mewing pups, but the mother could not reach them for the blaze that had by now engulfed the barn.

"I am so sorry." Darcy whispered with feeling, before turning his back, and hurrying out of the inferno.

Darcy carried the girl up to the farmhouse veranda, and lowered her to the floor, collapsing down beside her moments later, heaving great gulps of air into his starved lungs. He looked back toward the barn, now a blazing ruin, and saw that the flames had already spread to the other outbuildings also. If something were not done soon, the blaze would quickly spread to encompass the house as well. But Darcy could not afford to see to both the fire and the girl, so he returned his attention to her, knowing as he did that one mans efforts alone would be futile in the face of such a blaze. He could only hope that help would arrive soon.

Darcy swiftly tore off his shirt and cravat, his waistcoat long since gone, and quickly fashioned the cravat into a temporary tourniquet around her leg to stem the blood-flow. Then, soaking his shirt in cool water from a nearby trough, he gently wrapped it around the burnt limb in an effort to stop it from burning further.

Slowly, the girl began to come around.

"Where,... Am I?" she croaked out.

"You are at the house. I just pulled you from the barn, it is burning as we speak. How is your leg, is the pain very bad?" Darcy responded, his own voice scratchy also, but wanting her to stay awake.

"My leg? It is fine." The girl replied tiredly before her eyes snapped open, "The pups!.. Where... Where...are they alright?"

Darcy swallowed, the dog was no longer barking, but nor had he seen it emerge from the barn.

"Your leg does not pain you?" He asked rather than tell her the truth.

"No. No,... I went to feed the pups, they must have,..." The girl became unresponsive once more then, and Darcy got some more cold water to run across her burns.

That she could not move her legs did not surprise him. They were both severely mangled, but he was far more concerned that she could not even feel them. He had heard of such injuries from Richard. Men on the battlefield, their bodies flung like little rag dolls across the field by cannon blasts, who lost movement and sensation in their limbs. Often loss of sensation is merely a symptom of shock, but sometimes, often even, the feeling never returns.

Darcy looked the girl over. She was pretty for her age, with long golden hair and cornflower blue eyes, she was scarce more than a child ,and already her future was destroyed, if she even survived the night.

At last, several horses clattered into the yard. Stephen had managed to round up six men from surrounding farms in addition to George and himself. Stephen dismounted quickly and hurried over to Darcy.

"There are eight of us together Mister, nine including yourself. Bernard wanted to come as well, but with his lungs as they are I thought it better he remained to see to the Family when they returned."

" Very good, Stephen, you have done well." Replied Darcy.

"Where should we begin Mister?" Stephen prompted, the other men also clearly awaiting for Darcy to direct them.

Darcy floundered a moment, overwhelmed by the enormity of the task ahead and feeling utterly unprepared for the responsibility laid upon him. Darcy closed his eyes a moment and imagined it were his own home set ablaze, Pemberly itself at risk, and his own precious Georgiana lain halfway between life and death on his very doorstep. He would be the master, and all would look to him for directions as they did now, and suddenly Darcy felt at peace, knowing precisely what to do.

" The priority is the house, barns can be replaced in time but the home is paramount. We cannot save what is already lost, so we aim to salvage what we can.

You three," He bellowed, pointing to three strong young lads, "bucket water and douse the house and ground where the fire approaches.

The rest of you attempt to block the fire spreading along the fences and buildings. Use the blankets on the line over there, soak them in the barrel and use them to stamp out the fires progress.

Stephen, you ride to town as fast as you can. Fetch as many able-bodied men as you can gather, and try to alert the owner if you know who he is. Then fetch the doctor and the surgeon. Tell them it is most urgent. Hurry boy!"

At once the group of men hurried to their assigned tasks, Stephens horse thundering along the road that headed toward town.

Darcy decided his first interest lay in the girl, and so continued his ministrations. Now and then she regained consciousness, though only momentarily, but her speech became increasingly more incomprehensible with each attempt, and Darcy began to wonder if the blanket of unconsciousness were not a blessing.

It was not overly long before the sounds of horse hooves once more clattered into the yard, this time bearing a good twenty men, each dressed in their Sunday best. Almost immediately, a robust man in his forties began to bark out orders to the other men who followed them at once. A

swarm of men seemed to engulf the area, and it was not long before the flames began to recceed.

The man himself walked swiftly up to Darcy on the porch, and bending his knee, dropped down to peer at the girl in concern.

" Mr Smith, I assume?" The man asked, turning his focus on Darcy, to which Darcy replied in the affirmative as he changed the makeshift dressings on the girls leg. "I am told you have things well in hand here, but could appreciate some more hands. I hope you don't mind my directing them to assist in helping carry out your directions?" The man seemed almost nervous beneath his intense gaze.

"Not at all Sir, we were barely holding the flames at bay. I am afraid I cannot leave this girl until the doctor arrives, so it was expedient. I thank you." Darcy responded distractedly, his concern for the girl increasing as she no longer had moments of lucidity.

"Carry,... How does she fare?" The man inquired, his voice softening, and his face crumpling in worry.

"Not well," Darcy whispered in defeat, "She has not regained consciousness for some time now, and when she did she became increasingly confused. She can neither move nor feel her lower limbs, and she has suffered severe burning. I am no Doctor Sir, but I fear her chances are not good."

The older man sighed heavily in response, pulling his cap from his head and scrunching it between his large hands.

"Doctor Jones is not far behind us, along with Mr Bennet and her brother, poor George, in a bit of shock I think. Had a time of it they have... Mr Warren, anyhow." He said, suddenly realizing he had forgotten to introduce himself. "Is there anything I can help with here, or best I go help the men?"

Darcy looked up at the man feeling suddenly helpless once more.

"I do not think there is much more can be done for her until the Doctor arrives. As soon as I am no longer needed I will join you."

The older man stood once more, stuffing his cap back over his greying hair.

"Just you see to our Carry, I'll mind the fire."

They nodded once more, and Mr Warren set off to join the others even as two carriages clattered into the yard.

Darcy watched as an older man carrying a heavy leather case, and a younger man stepped out of one carriage, and were guided quickly up to the porch by Stephen. Behind them, a young man with sandy blonde hair rushed out of the second carriage, and ran up the steps to collapse beside the girl Carry, a gasping sob wracking his form as he took in her condition.

Ignoring who else stepped forth from the carriages, Darcy quickly stepped in to remove the man. Gently grasping his upper arms in his hands, Darcy lightly pulled the man away,

"Come out of the Doctors way now, the doctor needs to see to her so we can all know how to be of assistance to her. You'll be no good to her in this state, come."

The man complied as though in a trance, putting up no effort to stop Darcy removing him, though his eyes never once wavered from the fragile form on the porch floor. At last, he whispered brokenly,

"I should never have left her alone, my dear sweet Carry. Oh what have I done?!" The man began to breathe heavily, and Darcy worried if he did not get a control of himself soon the Doctor would have to split his attentions, which the girl could scarce afford just now.

Setting his jaw, Darcy smacked the man hard across his left cheek, bringing the mans eyes suddenly into focus on him.

"You need to pull yourself together, Carry needs you now, you need to be strong for her. She is not in good shape, it is true, but what is done is done. You must get control of yourself now if you are to be of any use to her!" Darcy's voice was tinged with sympathy, but his face was strong and would brook no argument, and slowly the mans face began to clear.

"Your right, I apologize. Carry needs me now." He whispered, resolve setting a strength in his face that chased away all traces of his former panic.

Together, they returned to the girls side, just as the Doctor finished his examination and turned toward them. Warily eyeing the young man, he seemed to accept that the man's shock had passed and began to relay his findings.

"She's in a bad way, George, a very bad way. She has severe burning on her legs, and is missing a great deal of her skin tissue on one. She has a broken leg, three broken ribs and I daresay a broken spine as well. I do not think I need to tell you her chances are not good. For now she remains unconscious, and I think it is a blessing for the pain will be unbearable on one so young."

"Actually Sir, she did not seem to be in pain earlier, but rather she had no feeling at all in her lower limbs." Darcy interrupted, causing the man to run his hand over his chin and his frown to deepen yet further.

"Hmm... I wonder..."

"What? What do you wonder?" George asked impatiently.

"Well, you see under normal circumstances, I would advise the amputation of the right leg, as the blood loss and tissue damage will almost certainly prove fatal, the body simply cannot recover from such a wound. But as she is already in so much pain, I had worried she would not survive the additional shock from the procedure. On the other hand, if it is as this man says, and she has lost sensation with her spinal damage,... It might just be possible..." The older man stared hard at George for several moments before finally finishing.

"If we leave her be, the leg will most certainly claim her life, which, all things considered, may be a kindness. If however, we were to remove the leg, there is a chance, a very small chance mind you, if she does not get the fever, she might survive."

"Do it." Georges voice ordered steadily.

"Now George, you need to think this through. Consider her life if she does survive..."

"Do it." George repeated, but the doctor continued on.

"She will never be able to walk again, she will not be able to work, or to marry, never be able to hold a child of her own. She will be confined to her bed or a chair for the rest of her life, and that life will almost certainly be fraught with illness,..."

"Do it." Georges voice had dropped to a warning note, but still the Doctor continued,

"Think George! How will you care for her? Your farm lies in ruins, who will give her the care she will most certainly need? She will not thank you, I assure you! Can you commit her to such a life? Can you commit yourself to such a life? Just think of the burden you place upon yourself, be reasonable!"

George suddenly lunged at the man gripping his collar in his fist and bringing the mans face into his own.

"She is my sister! My baby sister! Not some beast to toss aside when inconvenient!" He snarled into the doctors face.

Darcy took one arm even as Mr Bennet seemed to come out of nowhere and took the other, and between them they pulled the man away, though the fire in his eyes still blazed in anger.

"Dr Jones, I believe you have your answer. I am aware the circumstances are not ideal, however I am sure such operations have been performed in much worse conditions. I have brought with me my daughter, and also Miss Charlotte Lucas, in case they might assist you as required."

Mr Bennets words were spoken in his usual unperturbed manner, yet there there was something in his face that indicated the subject was now closed.

Darcy's face snapped up immediately, as though wishing to assure himself the gentleman's words were untrue. But alas, stood just out of hearing were the two young ladies Mr Bennet had spoken of.

"Mr Bennet! You cannot be serious! The surgeons table is no place for a young lady! Surely you would not subject them to such a thing! It is completely unacceptable!"

The old man seemed unaware however, of the impropriety of the position he placed his daughter in, and simply smiled lightly in amusement.

"My Lizzy is no wilting flower I assure you, Mr Smith. Nor Miss Lucas either."

"But Sir! You cannot mean to..."

Any further comment Darcy may have made however, was cut off as the smile disappeared from Mr Bennets face, and he drew a hand up before Darcy sharply to silence him.

"My Daughter is quite capable of dealing with the situation, Mr Smith," He said sharply, stressing Darcys taken name strongly in reminder, "and I am quite sure that it is my place, not that of my estate manager, to make that decision."

The two men stared coldly into one another's eyes for several long moments before Darcy forced himself to look away. Whilst still angry at the position in which Mr Bennet would willingly place Elizabeth, he could not deny that it was not his place as the lowly Mr Smith to argue the point.

Darcy turned away angrily, attempting to smother his emotions so at least they were not apparent to all. As his anger cooled, so too did his body, as the chilly evening breeze reminded him sharply he had stripped his shirt for bandages, never once thinking to be encountered by a lady under such circumstances. Abruptly, he turned to the young man and enquired as to where he might find a shirt.

Having pulled on a rough linen shirt, Darcy made his way back toward the injured girl, only to find her cradled gently in her brothers arms as he bore her upstairs. Dr Jones spotted him, and requested that he assist the women in preparing pails of hot water and other items that would be required.

Having agreed, Darcy made his way toward the kitchen where he found Miss Elizabeth heaping coals to boil water, whilst Miss Lucas tore sheets into strips.

"Miss Lucas, Miss Elizabeth." Darcy acknowledged, tipping his head in the direction of each. "Dr Jones sent me to assist, where can I be of best assistance?"

Elizabeth pushed several errant strands of hair out of her face with the back of one coal darkened hand before pointing toward two large pots alongside the fire.

"Thank you Mr Smith, if you would be able to find some water to fill these pots here, we can boil the water for Dr Jones. I think we can get a good two pails from each."

Darcy nodded, then lifting the two pots, went in search of clean water.

It seemed to take forever to get the water boiled, but all too soon, Darcy found himself ascending the stairs carrying two pails of steaming water, while Miss Elizabeth and Miss Lucas followed behind with trays of new bandages and assorted other items the Doctor and Surgeon had requested.

At the door Darcy quietly knocked twice, before turning to Miss Elizabeth.

"I will take in the water then return for the other items also." Darcy stated, eager to ensure that neither young woman be faced with the grizzly scene no doubt unfolding within.

"It will be quicker to follow straight in after you Sir!" Elizabeth exclaimed, indignation tinting her cheeks a delicate rosy hue.

Darcy's lips drew into a thin line of irritation. "I would prefer you two ladies not to enter Ma'am, it is no place for a lady such as yourself."

Elizabeth drew herself to her full height, her eyes ablaze with fury. "Neither Miss Lucas nor myself are some sort of delicate debutante Sir, and as we were requested to be present I do not think that is your call to make!"

"Miss Elizabeth please! Consider your position!" Darcy seethed through clenched teeth, his anger resurfacing hotly in his exhaustion, but Elizabeth made no attempt to stand down.

Miss Lucas reached out to touch Lizzy's arm in a quieting gesture, "Lizzy,of course we will assist if required, but Mr Smith is right, it is not an appropriate place for a lady of our position to..."

"Appropriate! Appropriate to who Charlotte? We are hardly in vast company, yet our childhood friend lays at deaths door! Forgive me if I do not think the standard rules of society apply!" Elizabeth exclaimed fervently.

Anything further that might have been said on the matter however, was instantly forgotten, as almost at once the door behind them was wrenched open, and a cacophony of noise erupted suddenly from the room within.

Dr Jones hastened Darcy in with the hot water, where he placed it down as directed. On a table in the middle of the room lay the prone form of the young girl Darcy had earlier pulled from the fire. Now stripped down to a thin white chemise, her skin was as white as the sheet she lay on, her lips forming a thin blue line, as dark black lashes fanned out in stark contrast against pallid skin. Barely several feet away Mr Bennet was scarcely managing to restrain the girls brother, who having watched the surgeon lay out his tools had apparently reverted back to his earlier panic and was crying out repeatedly, attempting to wrench himself free of Mr Bennets grasp. At the foot of the table, the surgeon stood alongside an array of instruments, knives and saws each more disturbing than the last laid out in a perfect row, his face awash in concern at the brothers state.

Dr Jones ordered the two women into the room, instructing them where to place their loads before barking harshly at Darcy,

"Get that blasted man out of here! If she comes around with him in such a state... Just get him out!"

Instantly Darcy headed across to George, and taking one arm whilst Mr Bennet took the other they hauled him from the room.

Once downstairs, they maneuvered him to the front door, where Mr Bennet, released him, instructed Darcy,

"Get the boy away from here, goodness knows he'll be of no use in this condition!"

With one arm free, George wrestled against Darcy furiously, managing to rain down several blows in his attempt to free himself, still uttering nonsense constantly. Finally, the days emotions and exhaustion getting the better of him, Darcy pulled his arm back and delivered one powerful blow to the mans Jaw, sending him careening backwards off the porch to land squirming on his back in the dirt.

"About time someone did that, wait here a minute." Muttered Mr Bennet, before ambling off inside the house.

After several moments, George stopped kicking about and instead curled onto his side, giving in to stomach wrenching sobs that whilst silent, shook his entire body violently.

Finally, Mr Bennet returned with a glass bottle in hand. His face was awash in pity as he handed the bottle to Darcy.

"Not the best I'm afraid but it will have to do. Get him far enough away that should Carry awaken during the procedure he won't be able to hear."

"Yes Sir." Darcy replied, as the old man turned and ambled unsteadily on tired legs back up the stairs.


	15. Chapter 15

_**Well, here goes! Sorry this story has become so painstakingly slow! Between my ludicrous health and having a few unexpected hiccups in life, I have found myself unusually without what one might call inner romance. Thus writing has just not been working. On a more pleasant note however, I am soon expecting the arrival of our 5th (and I pray finally LAST) baby! Thus why my health is still proving a persistent problem, but she has turned out healthy so far despite thankfully :)**_

_**So I apologize if this chapter needs some revision, no matter how many times I rectified it, I seem unable to get this one right. I especially feel I am taking a great deal of poetic license with Charlotte, so may later return to revise this chapter. But no doubt I will revise rather allot once this story is complete!**_

_**I'd love your opinion on this chapter, especially Charlotte, as although I will take liberties with our characters, I still wish to be true to them.**_

_**Thanks for all the continued support for this story, it means allot to me :)**_

_**CHAPTER 15**_

It took some time for Darcy to remove the young man, but soon enough he was quietly walking with Darcy across several fields and up a steep knoll that afforded both a sense of distance from the activity below, whilst also a good vantage point from which to survey the proceedings. About halfway up the small hill, Darcy turned and sat down heavily in a grassy spot indicating to George to do so also.

The two men sat in silence as they observed the scene below.

The men had managed by now to smother out most of the flames that had spread to the smaller buildings, and had succeeded in saving the house from damage. The two large barns however, one clearly used for sheltering stock in winter, the other for storing feed, tools and so forth, were both a complete loss.

The one Darcy had pulled Carry from was now little more than a smoldering heap on the ground that men continued to bucket water onto in an attempt to prevent it from igniting once more. The other barn however, full as it was of hay and other easily flammable materials remained a furious blaze, which was now being managed, rather than any attempt made to save it. Indeed, to get too close to such an inferno would risk the mens lives needlessly.

Darcy could feel the man beside him taking stock of the nights losses, and without a word handed him the glass bottle Mr Bennet had passed him earlier. The man took it in similar silence, and uncorking it, took several large gulps before pulling a face and offering it back to Darcy. Having observed the effect on the man beside him, Darcy smiled but declined.

George sat for some time merely watching the scene below with glazed eyes, before finally speaking.

"We just built those two barns at the end of last summer. Took years of work, but finally I thought we were getting somewhere. Where do I go from here?"

Darcy tried to find a comforting response, but could not find anything appropriate to say, so remained quiet. The man beside him took several more large swigs before continuing.

"It was going to be such a great year, a good harvest this season would have meant enough stable income to take on extra hands, maybe even..." The mans voice drifted off as he said these last words as his stricken eyes focused on the house. For some time Darcy just assumed that whatever he had been going to say would remain unsaid, but finally the man closed his eyes and his entire demeanor dropped yet further as he breathed out his final words.

"Maybe even a wife."

Darcy glanced once more across the farm that now lay in ruins, and tried with all his might to imagine it as it had stood a mere twelve hours earlier. The house was a pretty cottage,edged by beds of spring flowers. The yard was well kept for a farm, and the barns and outbuildings would have been nicely arranged to create a pleasant atmosphere. The entire place spoke of a hard-working farmer and his love for his family could be seen in the little details. Indeed, it had undoubtedly been a pleasant home that many a young woman would be proud to call home.

But now, as Darcy looked around, the enormity of what was lost began to sink in. Even if the crops still produced well, there was nowhere to store them and they would go to waste. The required tools and implements in order to achieve a decent harvest were even now in flames. The house, although seemingly untouched, had most certainly felt the strain of the fire, its once white walls now stained varying shades of black and grey, it's roofing closest the inferno having warped slightly in the heat.

The farm would take many years hard work to rebuild, if indeed it ever did. It would certainly be many years before the man beside him could ever consider himself in a position to take a bride.

While Darcy sat considering the mans misfortunes, George himself was making quick work of the bottle of spirits, and his mood was taking a swift turn from melancholy to bitterness.

"I was thinking of making her an offer you know!" George said with a self-derisive snort of laughter, swinging the bottle in the direction of the house.

Darcy frowned, little surprised the mans mouth was being loosed by the alcohol he had imbibed so quickly, but confused as to whom he could be speaking of.

"Miss Lucas?" Darcy asked, not wanting to consider the only other option.

George laughed, "No, not her! Her Father is a "Sir", it would never be allowed! Lovely lady, but I am only a humble farmer! No,.. No..." The man drifted off into laughter.

Darcy attempted to stifle his irritation, unsure wether it was on account of the mans now decidedly drunk state, or because of where he sensed the conversation was headed.

"No, it was Miss Elizabeth Bennet I had thought to offer for, in time." George said, seemingly sober once more, if only for a moment.

"Why Miss Elizabeth?" Darcy had to turn his face away to hide the scowl that blossomed.

"She's quite something that one! She could handle the farm life, I think. Miss Lucas often tells me how she works the vegetable garden herself, manure and all. I hear things, you know from the common folk about town, how she's always off helping one person or another. Making blankets for old Mr Tell, watching the young ones for Mrs Leafbridge so she can take some rest. Do you know she personally walked over to the Carsons every day for a month this past winter to take them meals while they were poorly? What kind of woman is that? On top of that she is all kindness and laughter, you should have seen her at the Assembly tonight, she really was something. Life on a farm is hard work, but it can be a good life if you have the right attitude. She would have made a good farmers wife, and she would have been good for my Carry too."

Darcy stared at the man in horror. Miss Elizabeth was a hard worker, but because she had to be.

Darcy hoped with all his heart that someday she would live an easier life, with servants to do the hard labor. He imagined her growing old in a warm house full of the laughter she would bring into it, filling her days with walks among beautiful gardens, and playing with her children and then grandchildren.

If the gardens he imagined looked similar to those at Pemberly he chose to ignore it, and if those children had her smile but his eyes, he pretended not to notice.

But to imagine her Georges wife, her sleeves pushed up like they had been earlier as she shoveled coal, a little girl clinging to her skirts even as another babe wailed from the crib, made his blood run cold. To consider her laughter that should ring through the halls of her husbands house every day, slowly disappearing in the rush of work from sun up to sun down that farm life would most likely entail was not to be bourne.

"What makes you think that a gentleman such as Mr Bennet would allow you to offer for his daughter any more than Sir Lucas?" Darcy enquired at last, doing his best to reign in his anger but needing to know.

"Well, not now, obviously." George said sadly, gazing once more on the ruins of his home, "But it's well known in the area that the younger four Bennet daughters will have to marry below their status. There is some dowry for the elder Miss Bennet, not allot mind you, but the younger daughters have practically nothing. Their father is getting on in age, and with the estate entailed, any man who marries one of the daughters could windup with the whole family if Mr Bennet were to die without them yet married. It is an unfortunate business, but still, if any of the young ladies receives an offer she is best to accept it.

I always figured it would be the right thing to do to make sure there was somewhere they could go if the worst happened. I know a lady in her position scarce dreams of marrying a simple farmer, but to be sure it is better than to be left without entirely.

Besides, I had hoped I could offer her a good life. Maybe not the life of the gentry, but a good life."

Darcy forced himself to look away, knowing that what the man said was true, and his intentions had been all that was admirable. But to hear Miss Elizabeth's future spelled out so clearly awakened an anger in him that cut deeply.

George was right, for all Elizabeth's dreams of love, she would eventually have to listen to the call of reason. Darcy could only pray that he would not be there to see it happen.

"Anyway, good for nothing man I am, I have no right to be speaking of such things. I apologize, I think the spirits and the nights events have made a fool of me tonight." The man said, tipping his head and finally taking real notice of the man sat beside him. "Mr Smith, is it not? I do not believe I have thanked you for everything you have done for my family this day. I have been so lost in everything I have lost, I forgot it could have been much worse."

"Glad to meet you, Mr Tippen. William Smith, I manage Longbourn Estate for Mr Bennet." Darcy replied, grasping the mans offered hand.

Georges face went a shade paler as he realized who he had been speaking so candidly to.

"Do not concern yourself, Mr Tippen, I see no need to share the ramblings of a grief-stricken man."

George visibly relaxed. "Then I must thank you again, Mr Smith."

Darcy remained sat in silence with Mr Tippen for the remainder of the night, observing the mens progress until the first rays of light began to peek over the horizon. Throughout the hours they sat there, silent tears had fallen down the mans face off and on as he regained sobriety.

Now as the sun hit the windows on the house, at last Mr Tippen softly spoke once more.

"I am afraid to return, I do not think I can stand it if Carry is lost."

"Dr Jones did seem optimistic, we can certainly hope." Darcy replied sympathetically.

"Have I done the right thing, Mr Smith? Or was I selfish to want to keep her with me?"

Darcy could hear the torture in the mans voice, indeed he hardly knew how to reply. If it had been his own dear sister, would he have acted differently? But then Georgiana would have as many comforts as she needed or desired given her, what would poor Carry's life be now? Would it be any easier to keep her body alive only to watch her spirit die day by day as it surely must?

At last Darcy gave the only answer he could.

"I have a sister, she too is only young. I do not think I could ever choose to give up on her. I will always fight to protect her in any way I am capable of. I cannot say if you have done the right thing, Mr Tippen, but I do think you have done the only thing any loving brother possibly could."

At that George put his head in his hands and began to weep once more.

Just after dawn, the front door to the house finally swung open. Darcy watched as Miss Lucas and Miss Elizabeth stepped tiredly out onto the porch. They stood together for some minutes in an eerie stillness, merely surveying the devastation before them, before Miss Elizabeth sunk down onto the floor and lowered her face into her hands.

Miss Lucas gently soothed her hand across Elizabeth's hair before looking about and finally settling her gaze upon where Darcy and George sat. Darcy found himself holding his breath as she slowly began to make her way towards them, finally standing just several feet away with sympathy etched upon her face and hands clasped before her.

"She is lost then?" George rasped desperately.

Miss Lucas dropped to her knees before George, her hand reaching towards him before dropping back to her skirts, "No! Not at all! The Doctor says she is strong! She sleeps even as we speak!"

"But,... But then why do you yet cry?" George asked, afraid to believe it.

Miss Lucas looked away in an attempt to hide the fresh tears that stole over her cheeks, but Mr Tippen reached across and tugged on her sleeve agitatedly.

"Tell me Charlotte, please? I have to know!" He begged, unconsciously using her first name as he had so many years before.

"Oh George! I,... It was so very... I have never seen anything like it! The Surgeon has taken both her legs! She woke up, we had to hold her down, she sleeps now... But I... I could never have imagined such things!" Charlotte pulled away from him, but heedless of whatever propriety remained George dragged her to his chest in a brotherly embrace as she wept for them both, George seemingly having no tears left to shed.

At last, Charlotte pulled away and attempted to set herself right.

"But she will live?" George asked in an almost detached voice, staring at the window that hid his sister away from him.

"Yes, Dr Jones thinks she is strong and the wounds clean. So long as she does not get the fever she will be well." Charlotte replied in the steadiest voice she could muster.

George simply nodded, and silence settled between them as they watched the first of the men slowly abandon the charred remains of his farm and return to their own lives.

After awhile, Miss Lucas quietly asked "What will you do, George?"

George opened his mouth several times without a word being spoken. At last he replied, "I don't know. I just don't know."

"You know of course, I am glad to be of whatever service you require, and many more ladies about will be happy to help dear Carry too."

Mr Tippen dragged a tired hand across his face letting out a ragged sigh.

"That is kind of you, Miss Lucas, and you must know Carry and I will be deeply grateful. But such help can only last so long. What then? And what of this winter? If only I were already wed, then I could be sure Carry was cared for, and I could focus on the farm. But as it is..." His voice drifted off as he shook his head brokenly.

Miss Lucas agitated her hands in her lap for some time, as if if debating wether or not to speak, but finally offered a quiet reply.

"Perhaps, Mr Tippen, it is not too late. If you were to marry soon, you might still be able to repair what harm has been done."

Mr Tippen laughed, a humorless sound, "Oh Miss Charlotte! You have always believed in me, have you not?" His smile was genuine with soft affection in his eyes as he glanced at her, but then he became serious once more.

"It is not so simple however. I cannot ask a woman to wed a man who has lost everything. What kind of woman would want me now? Were I even to find such a woman, I do not even know if I can now provide for Carry and I alone, much less a wife! No, Miss Lucas, it cannot be done."

"Perhaps, but what if the bride had sufficient dowry to begin rebuilding? Surely it would not take an overly large dowry to at least begin to salvage what has been lost?"

"Perhaps, but why would such a woman want a join herself to a man in such a position as I?" George asked, understanding that Charlotte spoke with purpose, but utterly confused as to what she referred to.

"You would need to look for a woman who is herself in such desperate circumstances that your position is not so unacceptable." Miss Lucas replied, averting her gaze.

Darcy suddenly saw what Mr Tippen himself had yet to understand, and as his eyes caught those of Miss Lucas, he could not help but frown and wonder wether she truly knew what she offered. But Miss Lucas merely met his gaze confidently and lifted her chin high.

"Miss Lucas I know of no such woman, and most surely have not the time to search for one much less pay her court. No, I must simply make the best of what lies before me." George replied in frustration.

Miss Charlotte worried her hands a few moments before saying in a bare whisper,

"You do know one such woman, Mr Tippen."George gazed at her in confusion as she lifted vulnerable eyes to his.

"It is not proper, I know, for a lady to speak so. But I do not think there is much propriety to be found anywhere tonight in any case, and we have been too close of friends for far too long for me not to speak my mind this once." Miss Lucas voice shook slightly at this, but she kept her gaze steady despite it.

"You know my situation, at least in the essentials, I can bear it no longer. You may have lost much, but with my dowry, although not great, much could be rebuilt, and I am sure my father could arrange a loan to assist with what remains lacking.

I know I have nothing much to recommend me, nor a dowry sizable enough to overcome that, but you know I have always had a fondness for your family, and we have always gotten on well together. Perhaps... Perhaps it might be enough."

Miss Lucas finally lost her nerve and trailed off in a whisper, her gaze returning to the nervous movements of her hands. Mr Tippen meanwhile, stared at her in utter shock before anxiously leaping to his feet and pacing swiftly to and fro rubbing his hand across his face over and over again.

"Miss Charlotte! You cannot mean it! I can offer you nothing! Your father would never allow it!"

"I have long accepted there will come no suitor to ask my hand, Mr Tippen. You may not be able to offer a gentleman's house and life, but you can offer me a chance at a home and family of my own, and that is more than I have dared dream of in such a long time. My dowry is not large, but neither is it so very small, it will not take too long to rebuild. " Miss Charlotte kept her eyes down, difficult to read, but the desperation and sorrow in her voice were all too clear.

"But your father, You are the daughter of Sir Lucas! You deserve far more than a common farmer!"

"My Father is a good man, I am certain you will be surprised. I admit, it is not as he had hoped, but he would give anything to see his daughter content, something that is no longer in his power as things stand now. My situation grows worse by the day, I know he would never resent me my chance at happiness."

George stopped still then and stared at her as if her face could offer him all his answers.

"But would you be, Charlotte? Would you be happy?" His gaze was intense as she raised her eyes once more to his face.

"I am not a fanciful young girl that dreams of love letters and poetry, George. My time for such sentimentality has long since passed. But a home I can call mine, a family to cherish, and a chance someday to hold a have a babe of my own,... I believe happiness can be chosen, if one is willing to do so."

Darcy sat awkwardly, not knowing how to remove himself from a scene that had long ago ceased to require his presence, as Mr Tippen and Miss Lucas stared at each other in solemn silence better befitting a funeral.

At last, without breaking his gaze, Mr Tippen said "Mr Smith, would you allow me a moment with Miss Lucas?"

Only too glad to be released from the awkward scene, Darcy swiftly retreated to the house, glancing back as he did so to see Mr Tippen bending down on one knee before Miss Lucas.

Looking once more towards the house, Darcy saw Miss Elizabeth still sat unmoving on the porch where Miss Lucas had left her. As he came up the steps towards her he noticed that her face was streaked with dried tears, a emptiness in her gaze he had never before seen.

Making his decision, he walked straight past her and went to the kitchen where he swiftly located a pitcher, bowel, soap and towel. Finding the kettle over the fireplace still warm from it's last fill, he poured the remaining water into the pitcher and quietly made his way back to Miss Elizabeth.

From Miss Lucas words on the hill, Darcy knew that the two young ladies had been present when the surgeon had removed Carry's legs, so the shocked horror hidden behind her unseeing gaze came as little surprise. Anger swelled up in his heart once more that Mr Bennet would subject his daughter to such a traumatic event, but he forced it down, knowing that he needed his attention focused entirely on Miss Elizabeth for now.

Darcy placed the pitcher and bowel onto the floor beside Elizabeth before slowly easing his tired frame down in front of her, his knees just inches from her own. He waited a moment for a reaction from her, but received none. Her unseeing eyes stared into the distance with the same blank gaze and he was not entirely certain she even knew he was there.

Her delicate hands lay upturned in her lap, as though they carried a filth she could not scrub away, although she had clearly washed them already.

Slowly, Darcy reached across to take one hand in his own, and holding it over the bowel began to pour the warm water across her skin. Taking the bar of soap, no doubt much harsher than her soft skin was accustomed to, but all that he could find none-the-less, he slowly began to massage the lather into her skin, working in small circles beginning in the center of her palm and working outwards until he had thoroughly attended to each tiny digit in turn. Then, after rinsing off the the soap, he gently patted it dry with the towel, and placed it back into her lap before beginning the same treatment on the next.

Although not a word was spoken, sometime during the process on her second hand he was aware that she finally turned her eyes on him. He did not raise his eyes to meet hers, but silently focused himself entirely upon the task that had suddenly become infinitely important. Darcy could not wash away the things she had seen tonight, or the memories that would linger, but he could ensure she did not become lost in them. He could tie her here, with him, in this moment, outside of her head where ugly visions swam, and yet far away from the reality of loss and pain that yet surrounded them. So he continued on, each circle massaged into her unresisting palm a plea for her to return to him, each gentle sweep of his fingers a promise that she did not have to bear it alone, that he would share whatever load she would allow him to.

Yet still he did not meet her gaze, knowing she needed some time to gather herself. Hoping she would not push him away when she needed him.

If there was one thing Darcy knew about Miss Elizabeth Bennet, it was that she was stubborn, willful, and above all else, strong. But right now, she was also vulnerable, and Darcy knew he needed her to trust him if he wanted her to allow him into her pain and help, rather than shut him out. He needed her to know that he was not about to point out that he had been right, or criticize her, but rather he just wanted to offer his quiet support.

Finally having rinsed of her second hand, her tenderly patted it dry before placing it also palm down beside its partner in her lap, and finally allowed his eyes to meet her own.

"Thank you." Elizabeth whispered, meeting his gaze and for once not hiding behind a false smile.

Instead of replying, Darcy poured more water onto the washcloth and then worked a little soap into its surface. Then, lifting himself onto his knees, he reached out and lifted her chin in one hand whilst the other softly swept the washcloth across her face, slowly erasing the salty tracks of tears that stained her cheeks. He kept his eyes on the path of the towel as it whispered across her pale skin, suddenly overwhelmed with a desire to follow its path with kisses, and was thankful she closed her eyes against the feeling rather than watching him.

When he had finished he placed the towel back in the bowel but did not release her chin. Several beats passed before she opened her eyes once more and looked up at him.

"You don't have to carry it alone. You need to let it out." He whispered.

Elizabeth closed her eyes once more, and pulled her face down out of his grasp. Assuming he had pushed too far, Darcy sighed heavily before sitting back on his heels and gathering up the things he had used.

"We used to play together as children," Her voice was so quiet he thought at first he had imagined it, but upon looking up he found her empty eyes staring at him, yet seeing something else entirely.

"Charlotte, Jane and I used to play with the Tippens often, although we were all different ages. I have not much seen Carry since she just a little child, and now..." Elizabeth drifted off without finishing her sentence and she remained silent some time before beginning again. "She was always such a lively sort, always full of energy. She will never walk. Not anymore. It was so dreadful. She woke up, screamed. frightened by what they were doing. Afraid of why she could not feel it. So... so scared." Her words became disjointed, her eyes closing once more as tears slid down her face afresh.

Darcy reached out to her, not really sure what to do, but as he touched her shoulder she turned herself to lean into him, resting her head wearily on his chest. Darcy stiffened, knowing that she would never do such a thing under normal circumstances, but these were far from normal circumstances, and so he gently eased back to accommodate her slight weight, and placed his arm about her as if she were Georgiana.

It was not long before the heavy steps of Mr Bennet sounded down the stairs, and Darcy felt his anger begin to rise once more. For the first time since he had arrived in Hertfordshire, his anger blazed against the kindly gentleman who had taken him in.

Since his arrival, Darcy had only perceived the loving father. Whatever faults the man admittedly possessed largely overlooked, as Darcy compared his warmth with his own fathers cold detachment.

Now however, he found himself disgusted by the mans careless disregard for his daughter.

Although Darcy's anger blazed hottest over the horrific scenario he had inflicted upon Miss Elizabeth's innocent mind this night, he was well aware that his anger had found true strength in the sentiments expressed by Mr Tippen earlier that night.

Mr Tippen was right, to some degree at least. No matter what fine qualities she might have, or understated beauty she might possess, no matter that she was a gentleman's daughter, what sort of future could she truly hope for? She was- essentially- penniless, and everyone knew it. More than that, the hard manual labor she so willingly performed to assist her family was scarcely a secret, and though admirable it might be in its own right, such things would hardly encourage a worthy suitor.

Miss Elizabeth had virtually no dowry, no connections of value, and no real exposure to the upper-class society that she would need in order to make a decent match. More likely, she would find herself married off to a farmer, lawyer, or even an officer in the militia. Her dreams of love and happiness swallowed entirely by the responsibility of caring for her family.

But what angered Darcy the most was that such a circumstance had been entirely preventable. In the short time he had managed her fathers estate, he had seen a steady increase in revenue. Such an increase might not be significant in itself, but over ten to twenty years such attention to the estate would have afforded a respectable dowry for each of the Bennets daughters, perhaps even a season in town, at least for the elder daughters. Indeed, Miss Elizabeth's future had ben entirely preventable if only her father had taken a genuine interest in her welfare.

It was this anger that caused Darcy to boldly meet Mr Bennet's shocked glare as he stopped only mere feet from where Darcy sat with Miss Elizabeth, who appeared to have now fallen into an exhausted sleep in his arms.

"How dare you Sir! Do you understand the position you place her in?" Mr Bennet hissed quietly.

"She is in shock, Sir. Do you understand the position you have placed her in this night?" Darcy's voice was barely above a whisper, but the venom he infused into it carried every inch of authority that was rightly his as the heir to Pemberly, and he was proud to see his words hit their mark as the older man averted his gaze even as his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"I had not intended her to see such a gruesome scene,.. I had hoped,... Only it happened so fast, at the time." Mr Bennet dragged his hand wearily down his face before resting his guilt laden eyes on his daughters still trembling form.

"There were plenty of men, she did not have to be there." Darcy snarled, determined to express his anger.

"You know my Lizzy, she would never have agreed to leave, even had I asked her." Mr Bennet replied, attempting to excuse himself, and only riling Darcy further.

"She would have obeyed you, it should not have been her choice! You are her father, if you will not protect her who will? Look at her, see what has become of your strong daughter tonight, Sir!"

Just then, as if on cue, Elizabeth let out a great shuddering sigh and turned her head slightly allowing her father to witness her puffy eyes and tear-stained face.

"Oh my Lizzy, what have I done?" He murmured quietly, and at last Darcy's anger began to soften as he watched tears glisten in the old man's eyes.

It was not long after that before the sounds of the Doctor and Surgeon descending the stairs became apparent, and Mr Bennet moved to take his daughters form from Darcy.

"Come, Lizzy, let us take you inside. We will be leaving here shortly, you have had much too long a night my dear."

Darcy allowed her to be pulled from his arms up into those of her father, little surprised she offered no resistance, rather only wishing he had his coat in which to wrap her as she began to shiver in the absence of his own warmth.

It was only after Mr Bennet had disappeared inside with Elizabeth that he became aware of another presence, that of Miss Lucas, stood at the steps to the veranda. Darcy could not guess how long she had stood there observing, but was suddenly uncomfortable under her evaluating gaze that held neither approval nor condemnation.

"How is she?" She asked at last.

"Well enough, considering. She is in shock I think, but it will pass." He replied. "What of you, Miss Lucas? How are you faring?"

"I am well, thank-you. A little shaken to be sure, it all seems somewhat surreal in the light of day, as though a bad dream, only we shall not awaken shall we?" She smiled a sad smile.

"No, indeed."

"Mr Smith, I wonder if you might let Mr Bennet know that I have gone home. I find myself quite exhausted, and with no more to be done here for the time, I would like to return home to get some rest."

"Surely you don't mean to walk Miss Lucas, after such a long night." Darcy frowned.

"My home is only several minutes walk through the fields, Mr Smith, though longer by road, and I would prefer not to inconvenience the others for such a small thing."

"Then at least allow me to escort you, Miss. I would feel responsible were you to collapse of exhaustion along the way. As would Miss Elizabeth, I dare say, should I allow such a thing to befall her dearest friend!" Darcy smiled as he uttered his last sentence, glad to see her laugh softly in response.

"Indeed, Mr Smith, I know her temper well. I should be glad to accept your company, and keep you from experiencing it!"

They both smiled, and Darcy thought little of it when he offered her his arm as customary for a gentleman, though the gesture did not go unnoticed by his companion.

For the most part, the walk to Lucas Lodge passed in an awkward silence between the two each lost in their own thoughts. After a night such as that through which they had just passed, it was extraordinary how there was so little to discuss.

At last however, their destination came into view and Miss Lucas stopped walking just outside the front gardens, with Darcy soon following suit.

"I suppose you must think very poorly of me, Mr Smith." Miss Lucas stated, the sadness in her expression belied by the defiant lift of her head.

"I do not believe it is my place to have an opinion, Miss Lucas." Replied Darcy frowning slightly, unsure why she felt the need to discuss this with him of all people.

"It is not the position of a gentlewoman to,... to, offer herself as I have done." She said quietly, a sense of shame stealing across her face as she said the words, and Darcy had a feeling that perhaps it was not him she felt the need to defend herself to, but rather herself, and his heart went out to the woman in compassion.

Darcy sighed heavily and glanced away, his eyes unconsciously seeking out the direction of Longbourn.

"Miss Lucas, sometimes life does not go in the manner we might wish. Society in general has extensive rules, expectations, that in a perfect world would see everybody happy. But we do not live in a perfect world, do we Miss Lucas?" Darcy brought himself to meet her gaze then, allowing his eyes to express just how personally he meant his words. "I do not pretend to know why you chose the path you took tonight Miss Lucas, but one thing I do know. If I had half the courage to secure my own future as you yourself have displayed, I might hope to someday be happy."

"I know he does not love me, and perhaps he never will. But I do believe we can be happy together. We can both offer what the other needs, and our tempers are well suited besides. Surely, that can be enough, do you not think?"

"I believe that depends on what happiness means to you, Miss Lucas. Where one person can make happiness a choice, another may need much more to be so. I think you will only be miserable if you reach for something you cannot attain."

"Lizzy will not understand. She thinks it the worst sort of weakness to marry without love. She is determined to hold out forever for that intense sort of love that so very few ever find, and if she never finds it she would prefer never to marry at all. But I do not have her strength, nor do I desire the same things. I wish only for mutual companionship and to be able to be of some worth to another. I cannot bear to think of living out my life as nothing but a burden to another, as I am now."

Darcy's gaze returned to the direction of Longbourn, a vulnerability entering his expression.

"Miss Elizabeth is young, Miss Lucas. So very, very young. She is blessed with a certain naivety that I pray shall never be torn from her."

"She cannot be so very much younger than you, Mr Smith." Responded Miss Lucas, intently observing the pain in her companions countenance.

"Youth is not always measured in years, Miss Lucas. Understanding of another's position is often only bought through experience. It is these experiences through which our youth is stolen." Darcy replied.

"Who are you, Mr Smith? I thought earlier that you do not seem to belong here, yet rather you seem more as one who does not quite seem to feel as though you belong anywhere. But that is not quite true, is it Mr Smith? You have found somewhere you feel you belong, have you not? I saw it tonight, it is as though you have a sense of belonging whenever she is near."

Darcy found himself so surprised by her words, that he forgot to guard his expression as he returned his startled gaze to hers. For a moment he felt as though she could somehow see through to his very soul, and understood.

"Forgive me, I should not speak so plainly, I do not know what made me forget myself so. I had only wanted to request one thing of you, I should appreciate it if you would allow me to tell Lizzy myself. It would be better if I were to tell her myself when things are sorted."

"Of course, Miss Lucas." Replied Darcy, still not quite recovered.

"Thank you for escorting me thus far, I am sure I can continue alone, you must be more than ready to find some rest." Darcy inclined his head in a a bow, and began to return by the way he had come when Miss Lucas words, softly spoken, made him pause in his steps.

"We must all grow up someday Mr Smith, not even Lizzy can escape that. The best we can hope for is someone who genuinely cares for us to cushion life's blows. But I wonder, Mr Smith, will you play the part of the cushion, or the blow?"

Darcy was not entirely sure what to make of her words, but by the time he turned to ask her meaning, all he could see was her retreating back as she entered the house.


	16. Chapter 16

_**Hi all! My deepest apologies to all who were following this and must surely have given up on me by now! I know it has been an age since I updated, but this past year I have lived through has all but stripped the romance out of my very soul. I have had to stand by and watch a most beloved family member self-destruct, the effects of which I am still struggling to come to terms with. Then on top of that my own home life has been painfully strained, and I almost lost both my own life and that of my sweet baby girl when her birth went horribly wrong. We are both doing better now however, thanks for all the well-wishes, just takes time... like most things. Please forgive mistakes and areas that need reviewing, I intend to edit this story properly once finished, but just now I want it simply moving again!**_

**Chapter 16**

The day following the fire at the Tippen farm passed quietly for Darcy. The Bennet womenfolk passed the greater portion of the day in slumber, having been up most the night with all the excitement from the Assembly, followed by the traumatic events that followed.

The household servants attempted to make minimal disturbance as they went about their chores, and Darcy kept the men under him away from the house also. After ensuring the basic running of the Bennet affairs was well in hand, Darcy made sure to send all available assistance to the Tippen farm, which furthered the unusual stillness in the air.

Mr Bennet had retired to his library upon his return, and had not been seen since, although a soft rumble from within implied he had also given way to fatigue. Darcy had considered waking the man to send him to his bed where he would undoubtedly be more comfortable, but decided otherwise after considering how much sleep the man would truly get should his wife awaken and desire details. Thus, he had merely instructed the household staff to be cautious not to waken him.

Darcy found himself exhausted beyond words, yet unwilling to retire. The event's of the night previous had filled him with a sudden fervor to find a way to alter the perceived future of the family he had found shelter with.

In a the space of a mere day, Darcy had run such a wide array of emotions. From discovering himself to be utterly in love with his employers daughter, to realizing the futility of such emotion, and then the hopelessness of considering her future, Darcy was left with one driving need.

So much of what existed between himself and Miss Elizabeth could not change. He could not make her his wife, nor was it his right to tell her what lay in his heart, but if there was any way at all to alter her future, to offer her something better, than he would drive himself to exhaustion and beyond to realize it.

It was with this newfound zeal that Darcy poured over the estates books, searching for any areas that could offer significant returns before his departure. Yet search as he might, Darcy could not find any easy answer. The Longbourne Estate would, if kept to it's current management, continue to steadily increase it's profitability over the ensuing years, but any significant returns would yet be years in the future, far too late to offer any hope for the ladies in question.

It was in the late afternoon, as Darcy sat in quiet frustration over this fact, he heard an unusual sound outside his quaters, and decided to go investigate.

Stepping into the wanning sunshine, Darcy noticed that signs of life were slowly beginning to reassert themselves around the estate. Drapes had been pulled in some of the upper rooms, a window opened here and there, and the soft giggling of young girls carried on the breeze.

Looking about however, he could still see no sign of the unusual sound he had heard. Taking his jacket, Darcy wrapped it around himself, lifting the collar against the cool breeze as he wandered around the outbuildings. Again, he heard it, a rasping noise followed by a heavy 'thud'. Stepping closer to the Stable, Darcy saw what had caused the noise, and rushed to offer assistance.

"Mr Bennet! Allow me to assist you!" said Darcy as he swiftly placed his arm under that of the struggling old man.

Mr Bennet leaned heavily on Darcy's arm, one hand clutched into a tight fist against his chest, as he sought any support to hold himself up, his face wrought with pain as he fought to drag air into his parched lungs.

Darcy stood holding the man up for several moments, at a loss as to what to do, before the older mans breathing appeared slowly to normalize, and the pain abated from his visage.

"Mr Bennet, are you well? Are you hurt? Shall I fetch help?" Darcy inquired, only to find the old mans grip on him tighten.

"No! No, no help. I shall be well enough soon. None must know, " Mr Bennet rasped, still struggling for air. "I shall be well... Enough soon."

Once the worst of it seemed to have passed, Darcy helped Mr Bennet inside his own quarters and helped him down into a chair. Darcy quickly fetched him some water, but he could scarcely manage a few small sips. The old man looked pale and wan.

"Mr Bennet are you certain you could not use a doctor? You look dreadful pale, whatever happened?" Darcy asked, now impatient.

"It is nothing new, my boy," Mr Bennet replied tiredly in a weak voice, "if unusually strong. The doctor can do nothing, I fear. Time must take it's course, I am no longer young you know."

"Then this has occurred before?"

"Indeed, many times, though it becomes more severe, and frequent also. A weak heart, I am told. Not much to be done other than to wait, I am afraid." Said Mr Bennet, grimacing.

"Your family know?" Darcy asked, already knowing the answer.

"No, and they must remain unaware, you understand?" Mr Bennet answered, leveling a serious look at Darcy.

"Understand? In all honesty, no! No I do not!" Darcy responded, irritated. "I do not see how you can see fit to withhold such pertinent information from them."

"I do not wish to concern them at present. Besides which, can you imagine the fuss if Mrs Bennet knew? Her husband has a failing heart, and none of her daughters married? The whole town would know before long. I hear enough of her concerns regarding the hedgerows as it is! No, my boy, I am afraid it is for the better that it remain between us for now, at least until a few things are more certain."

Darcy was still unsure that keeping such information secret was the best course of action, but had to concede that Mr Bennet had a point. If the whole neighbourhood became aware his health, it made the situation impossible. As terrible as the thought of Miss Elizabeth becoming a farmers wife was, even that was more than she could hope for if the situation continued. Few men would be in a position to support six women just for the sake of marrying the one, and whilst this was an issue in any case, as yet there was always the hope that the other sisters might marry before the fathers demise.

Mr Bennets health becoming public knowledge therefore, was in nobody's best interest.

"Miss Elizabeth, at least?" Darcy inquired quietly, hoping he would not be asked to keep such a confidence from her, yet already dreading the answer.

"No, no let her have what happiness she may find. It is she who will truly grieve my loss I fear. She may not forgive my having kept it from her but I cannot bear to put such a weight upon her, and I may last many more years yet, there is no way to tell." Mr Bennet pinched his brow, his shoulders slumped and back bent, suddenly showing the weight of every year he had lived.

Darcy observed the gentleman with more emotion than he cared for, as it suddenly occurred to him that once he returned to his own life he would likely never see the man again, nor even hear of his passing. Even the threat of his own fathers demise failed to elicit moisture to Darcy's eye, yet the thought of not standing beside this family during their grieving and sharing in it, made his heart ache.

Darcy turned his back and strode over to his desk, fingering the books that still failed to give him the answers he sought.

"I have been over the books many times, but I can yet see no way to significantly improve your daughters situation. Each year will improve your yield and profitability, but much of that will likely only benefit your heir. You can increase their dowries a little, but not nearly enough.

There is another option, but..." Darcy trailed off, worry etched upon his face.

"Well? Options are not something I have many of, so I would appreciate any thoughts you might have." Mr Bennet prompted.

"It is very risky. You could settle all the girls dowry's upon one, Jane, and send her to London for a season in hopes she will marry a man wealthy enough to care for the rest. She has the looks and nature to be a success, but you could only afford the one season, and you would rely entirely upon the goodwill of her intended for your families future welfare. Should the man be less than worthy,..."

Darcy left his thought unfinished, letting the older man consider the potential consequences.

"If he was worthy, my remaining daughters would be bound to spinsterhood, should he not be worthy, they would be ruined. Not even considering the possibility of no man offering for her at all, which considering her want of connections,.. No, no I am not so without options as all that." Mr Bennet responded, a dark frown creasing his brow.

Darcy lifted an eyebrow in question, but the older man seemed unwilling to go any further, only answering darkly,

"It would seem the time has come to write a letter I had hoped never to write. But the offer will not last forever I fear, and I can put it off no longer."

Having said thus, Mr Bennet heaved himself from the chair and began towards the door.

"Oh, and Mr Smith?" Darcy met his eyes as he opened the door, "About the event's of last night,...

My daughter is fortunate indeed to have found such a friend in you, a kindred soul one might say. But I would ask that you not forget how very delicate is her position already. Wherever your future lies, it is far removed from hers. If you care for her at all, best you consider what becomes of her once you have left." A deep sadness was held in the mans gaze where anger had every right to reside, and Darcy found himself speaking without thought.

"I wish only to protect her, Sir."

Mr Bennet nodded sadly, "But you cannot, Sir, anymore than can I." and left the room in silence.

Darcy spent the remaining hours until evening considering the words that had passed polishing leather in the stables. His exhausted mind seemed unable to piece together the conversation to make any sense, and left his head aching. The smell of hay and horseflesh, combined with the gentle nickering of the horses soothed his heart, but seemed unable to give him the true peace he sought.

Just as the red and orange hues of the setting sun began to paint the walls, he became aware of another presence, and lifting his head he found Miss Elizabeth standing nearby. In her hand she help a plate full of roasted meat and vegetables.

His stomach growled loudly in response, and her laughter filled the room. "It would seem that Cook was right! She said you have not eaten in several meals, and filled your plate accordingly. I think she dotes upon you, you know." Elizabeth's smile lit the room and the peace that had been eluding Darcy finally soothed his mind.

"Cook just appreciates not needing to haul all her own water in the morning, is all. It does her joints good not to be out while the air is still so cold." Darcy replied, the smirk on his face belying the humility of his words as he stood and took the mounded plate from her hands, and sampled a piece of meat. "Mmm, she is right though, it is far too long since I have eaten."

Darcy looked up to see Elizabeth smiling softly at him, and his cheeks warmed in response. Just when had he become so comfortable with her?

Elizabeth moved across the room and took a seat near where he sat as he ate his meal.

"Why did you not join us for the evening meal?" She asked, bending to pick up a piece of straw and toying with it between her fingers.

"Honestly? My mind has been so full I simply forgot all about it." He replied.

"You are worried about the Tippens also?" She asked, without looking up.

"It will be difficult for them," Darcy replied, neatly avoiding her question. "But I am trying to arrange a schedule that will allow us to cover our work here and assist Tippen as well. I think it will work, and the men are willing despite the added labor."

Elizabeth nodded. "Jane and I thought we might go help try to restore his gardens, as they lost all their household produce in the fire. Jane can get the flowerbeds looking right again too, perhaps it might bring Carry cheer once she is able to get downstairs again."

"I will ensure that it is seen to promptly." William responded, frowning.

"There is no need! We can see to it, there is so much work to be done it is hardly worth the men's time!" Exclaimed Elizabeth in surprise, dropping the piece of straw to search his face for meaning.

"I would prefer it if you allowed the men to handle it." William replied evenly.

"This again! I thought we had come to an understanding! You can be so... So... Snobbish sometimes! Do you imagine that none of the country gentlewomen tend their own flowerbeds?!" Elizabeth demanded, her temper rising.

"It is different, you know it is. They do not plant gardens for common farmers." William winced even as he said it, knowing it would only feed her temper.

"Common farmers! They are friends, and neighbour's! It would be unchristian to ignore their hour of need!" She replied, rising and beginning to pace the floor in agitation.

William set aside his plate, his appetite suddenly gone once more, and rose to walk across to her. Standing before her he held her by her upper arms and forced her to look at him.

"Yes, it would be. And your desire to help speaks volumes of the purity of your heart. But you must consider your own position, and Jane's, too. What should occur if people began to talk? Would you wish potentially worthy suitors to overlook Jane on account of a reputation for behaving commonly? Would Mr Tippen or Carry want you to damage your own futures to help theirs?"

"Of course not, but they need help!"

"Yes, they do. So you send servants to help, nobody would ever expect more. You send servants in your stead, you send me." William pleaded gently for her to see reason.

"But you are not a servant, are you?" She replied, clearly conceding to him, yet pointing out as she did so his own hypocrisy.

Rather than answer, William released her, and stepped back from her, admiring the suns light upon her chestnut hair.

"How was your dance?" He redirected.

Elizabeth smiled, not missing his tactic. "It was lovely, what little I was in attendance for. We met our new neighbors." Elizabeth smiled a misceivious grin which William found himself chuckling at.

"And? What do you think of them?" He prompted, genuinely curious as to her opinion of his friend and that mans family.

"Mr Bingley is a most agreeable gentleman! He has pleasant manners, is lively and charming, and is generally disposed to like everything. In fact, I can honestly say that it is quite impossible to conceive how he might ever be in the slightest way related to the rest of the party!"

William did his very best to stifle his amusement at her assessment of the party by turning to hang up the harness he had been working on.

"Mr Hurst is an amusing enough gentleman, with a quick wit, and his wife seems agreeable enough when separated from her sister." Elizabeth continued as she helped in re-arranging the rooms contents to it's former condition.

"What of the sister? I presume from that you disapprove of her?"

"Miss Bingley. Well, it is difficult to think overly well of her when she is so very determined to despise everything about the country and it's society. I am afraid we do not measure up very well to Miss Bingley's high standards. I found her proud and disagreeable, but perhaps she may improve upon closer acquaintance."

"You expect such an opportunity then? Are they to remain long in the area?"

"Indeed, it would appear that Mr Bingley is intent on taking up residence in the country long-term, though the Hursts return to town shortly. As for Miss Bingley, I do not know how long she is to stay. But I dare say we shall see more of them before too long, Mr Bingley was utterly taken with our sweet Jane!" Elizabeth beamed radiantly up at William, her happiness evident.

"What of Jane? Is she likewise taken?" William enquired carefully.

"Jane has the highest opinion of him to be sure, but I do not think she will give up her heart easily, not after the last time. Still, if there is a man capable and worthy of such a task, I daresay I could not wish for a better. Yes, I think she is, but cautiously so. She shall not wear her heart upon her sleeve again."

Replied Elizabeth thoughtfully.

"So then, the Assembly was a great success I presume?" William smiled turning back to where she stood.

"Yes, overall. There was only one fault to speak of, I did not get a chance to dance so much as one set! It is all very well to enjoy good company but I had rather looked forward to dancing also!" Elizabeth pouted prettily, causing William to laugh outright.

William looked about the room and made a decision. Stepping back, he donned his most regal posture and effected a grandiose bow. "Miss Elizabeth, I do believe I have the pleasure of your final set?"

Elizabeth giggled lightly, "What, here? But there is no music!"

"Then teach me to dance without it." William replied softly. Elizabeth blushed deeply, but moved into position and curtsied in response.

Everything outside of that room seemed to melt away, as Elizabeth lightly hummed a tune and they began to move in sequence. To Darcy's great surprise it was easier than he thought to imagine the existence of the other dancers and the stringed quartet playing in perfect harmony. The stable tack room dissolved into a grand ballroom with vaulted ceilings and glittering crystal chandeliers, his simple workclothes became a perfectly tailored suit, and her daydress a fine silk gown. His steps became more confidant and graceful, and he soon found he was enjoying himself greatly, until he wasn't.

Quite suddenly his foot caught a saddle stand and he toppled swiftly to the straw covered floor.

Elizabeth too had stumbled, but caught herself in time not to fall and was now giggling mercilessly at his expense.

"I do believe Sir, that this room is too small and cluttered!" She laughed as William stood and brushed off his clothing. He could not help but share in her gaiety, finding himself quite inexplicably unwilling to end their dance.

"Perhaps, it is only we attempt too elaborate a dance for the space." He responded with a chuckle.

"Tell me, have you been taught the Waltz?"

"The waltz! No! It would be considered quite scandalous in country society I daresay." Elizabeth replied in surprise.

"It is quite popular in town, would you care to learn?" William asked boldly.

Elizabeth nodded slowly, and Darcy stepped quietly closer. Taking her hand gently, he placed it upon his shoulder, and placed his own hand just under her shoulder-blade, taking her second hand into his own. Gently guiding her he whispered the beat so she could follow, until very soon she had picked it up and was following his lead without looking at her feet.

Staring down into her eyes, Darcy could not help but be transported once more, but instead of the grand ballrooms of London, he saw instead the small music room at Pemberly with Georgiana playing at the pianoforte. He wondered briefly what it would be like to have such a reality, to have the right to hold her in his arms and dance together whenever they desired. To have Georgiana know the woman who had stolen his heart, though it could never be.

Something of his thoughts must have passed across his face, for she slowed their dance to a standstill and asked. "What makes you frown so?"

Darcy smiled at her tenderly, "I was simply wishing you could meet my sister, she would adore you."

"You are so sure!" Elizabeth laughed.

"I am. I was thinking of dancing like this at my home, while she plays at the pianoforte, she is very good. We have a small music room that we prefer to the larger rooms as it was our mothers. It has become our own special sanctuary where all the worlds expectations and concerns are not allowed to follow. We can truly be ourselves there. "

The smile fell from Elizabeth's lips as she realized his unspoken meaning. When she spoke it was as though past a lump in her throat.

"Perhaps you can ask your cousin to dance there with you?" She suggested, looking away so he could not see the longing in her own eyes.

Darcy straightened, slowly dropping his arms, "She does not dance. Her health would not permit it even had she the inclination."

Elizabeth felt a curious moisture behind her eyes, and wondered slightly at it's meaning.

"Will it be so very bad? Have you nothing in common? Can you not enjoy something together?"

"She is a fine woman, a very good cousin. She enjoys sewing and drawing, as neither require her to go out of doors or exert herself, which would apparently be bad for her health. She does not enjoy music overly, and is too tired much of the time to take pleasure in literature. She would hate a walk in the early morning mist." Darcy startled suddenly realizing he had been far too forward. Indeed, the entire situation was decidedly improper, and this time, he had not even the excuse of protecting her.

Stepping back from her he adopted an aloof stance. "It is time you returned to the house, Miss Elizabeth, your family will be missing you."

Tears pooled in Elizabeth's eyes as he distanced himself, suddenly and painfully aware that he had come to mean a great deal to her, his distance, even if only emotional causing a pain that promised much more for the near-future.

"Mr Smith, I wish,... That is,... Thankyou. I do dearly love to dance." She performed a deep curtsy before turning and rushing from the room.


End file.
